


Boys Workin' On Empty

by innersanctuaries



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Architect Bucky Barnes, Artist Steve Rogers, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innersanctuaries/pseuds/innersanctuaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</p><p>Steve and Sharon are about to get married and are building their dream house. The architect they hire is a friendly guy with the most beautiful eyes and the cutest smile Steve's ever seen.</p><p>ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Baby Never Fret None

**Author's Note:**

> My friend gave me this prompt, and it's pretty straightforward, right? Yeah, no. My opposition to Sharon's existence caused me to jump through literal hoops to make her seem bleh but it kind of spiraled down and down and down and downnnnnn...and now here we are. It's long so far (for me at least???), and it's only getting longer, so please bear with me.

Steve didn't know how he ended up here.

He thought that by twenty-six, he'd have more than just this. He thought he would have more to come home to than an empty apartment. It wasn't always empty, in a few hours she'd come stumbling in through the front door, drunk off her ass, per the usual. But somehow, he felt almost like he'd rather have the emptiness.

It was times like these that he sat and drew in silence. He drew soft brown eyes and smiling red lips. Smooth hair pinned back elegantly. People didn't complain about the amount of pieces of this woman he was putting out. In fact, they loved the 'raw emotion' they had in them. He wondered if they knew they all had bits and pieces of his precious memories hanging in their living rooms.

It had been a year and a half, if not more, and he still couldn't seem to let go or move on. He knew the pain would always be there, but he also knew that it shouldn't still feel the same, if not worse than it did the day she left.

Steve met Peggy Carter when he was still a scrawny little fucker, getting his ass dragged by two guys whose names he never bothered to learn. She just so happened to walk by, and once she saw the situation at hand, her kind eyes hardened. Her heels clicked on the tile floor, and the next thing any of them knew, one of Steve's assailants was nursing a broken nose, and the other was face down on the floor.

At that moment, Steve fell a little bit in love with her.

Peggy and Steve became inseparable after that. Nobody dared touch Steve, for fear of getting knocked on their asses. Likewise, nobody dared to make any unwanted advances on Peggy, for fear of a small, determined kid raising hell right then and there. They both already knew their reputations, and neither of them cared much about what criticism they got from it.

He and Peggy were practically joined at the hip, and one of their favorite pastimes was to poke fun at each other.

'What fifteen year old wears _heels_  to _school_?'

Her lips would quirk up the slightest bit every time.

“What fifteen year old still walks girls to the door?”

He'd sputter indignantly and mention that she was the only girl he did that for.

She laughed it off, but sometimes Steve could have sworn he saw the slightest blush sometimes. He knew it was just wishful thinking.

They were a dynamic duo all through high school. With each passing day, Steve fell for her just a little bit more. It was a surprise to nobody when they went to prom together, which Peggy had demanded (Steve wanted to ask her but he couldn't, what if she said no?), and Steve had no problem going with her. Thankfully, by that point, Steve had finally started growing some, to the point that even with heels, he was just a bit taller than she was. He loved finally being able to look straight into her gorgeous eyes. They always softened when she looked at him.

They danced together that night, with no shortage of bruised toes and tripping over each other's feet. Still, they danced for hours. Peggy had kicked off her heels and slowly danced with Steve, her head on his shoulder. They said nothing, but they left with bashful smiles on their faces and their fingers laced together.

Steve walked Peggy to her door, like he always did. She'd always tease him about it, and every day before she closed the door, she'd curtsy exaggeratedly and say goodbye.

This time, neither one of them wanted to leave. They stood there awkwardly, and Steve attempted to fill the silence with talking. It only took a few seconds before Peggy brought her finger up to his mouth to shush him.

“Steve?”

'Mmm???'

“Kiss me?”

He did.

They went on being friends, neither of them really acknowledging what had happened that night. Steve and Peggy both went to the same college, Steve studying art, and Peggy studying criminal justice. She'd been the one to push him to go for art, because it was what he loved.

“I'm not going to see you be miserable for the rest of your life. And for what? Because you decided you'd do something you thought was useful instead of something you actually love? No, you damn well better not do that. Get your head on straight, Steve.”

He loved her. It'd been years and he'd still never been able to tell her. His sketchbooks were filled with drawings of her doing regular, everyday things. His favorites, though, were the ones where she gave him that crooked troublemaking smile. Her eyes twinkled and her nose crinkled up just a bit. He thinks that he loved those the most because those were the moments he had with her that were always the most memorable.

They'd end up skinny dipping in the ocean or hopping a fence into a field they probably shouldn't have been in. Gazing up at the sky, they'd shush each other and she'd giggle as he insisted that they go back for fear of them getting caught. He'd threaten to leave her there, but for some reason, he could never manage to do that.

Several things happened in college. For one, Steve excelled in his classes. He was the best artist on the campus, hands down. He'd had some art in a school showcase, and he'd sold almost all of his pieces. Not only that, but requests for more were pouring in. The name Steven Rogers began to mean something to more than just Peggy.

Another thing was that tiny Steve Rogers became not so tiny Steve Rogers. In fact, he'd gotten to be a bit over six feet tall, and his body looked, as Peggy said it, “like that of a goddamn superhero!!”.

The last thing that happened was that Steve finally grew a pair and asked Peggy Carter out on a date.

She'd grinned wider than he'd ever seen her smile before, then tried to go back to having a straight face (and failed miserably).

“It took you long enough.”

He'd laughed nervously, running his hand through his hair and trying to ignore the fact that he'd turned firetruck red.

'So, that's a yes, then?'

“Yes. That's a definite yes.”

He took her to a fancy Italian place, and the second they saw the prices on the menu, Peggy laughed and dragged Steve to a cute little diner in the middle of nowhere. Steve insisted they get it to go. He drove them out to that same damn fence they jumped in high school, and they jumped it once more. They had a probably illegal picnic on someone else's property while gazing up at the stars and laughing as quietly as possible. Sure, they ended up running the second a light in the distance turned on and someone ran out of a house screaming bloody murder at them, but in their eyes, it made it that much more memorable.

They shared breathless, smiling kisses that tasted of apple pie that night.

When Steve finally asked Peggy if they wanted to be official, not a single person at that school was surprised. Peggy did laugh when he got down on one knee to ask her to be his girlfriend, called him 'old-fashioned'. Peggy also said yes and threw herself into his arms. He didn't think that he'd ever smiled that big before.

Steve and Peggy graduated. Steve graduated with a Master of Fine Arts degree and thousands of people following his art, hundreds begging him to produce more. Everyone who appreciated fine art wanted a Steven Rogers piece. He'd gotten to the point where he was living comfortably in a cute little apartment with Peggy. She insisted on paying half the rent, even though he was more than happy to pay for it by himself.

“I will not leech off of you, Steve. That's not how a relationship works. A good, healthy relationship is a team effort. You and I are a team, aren't we, love?”

So they kept on being the dynamic duo they'd been for years.

Peggy, on the other hand, graduated with a Bachelor of Criminal Justice. She started training as a police officer almost immediately, and finished best in her class. She was one of the best officers around, if not the best. She was always just the kind of person who demanded respect just by existing.

Of course, now that she actually knew the law inside and out, she seemed to become even more of a troublemaker.

“Steve, if we're _really_  quiet, we won't get caught, and even if we do, we'll get off with a warning! It's fine, darling, let's go!!”

She loved to go exploring in old abandoned buildings, whether or not they were on private property. He'd never admit it, but he loved it too. Sometimes, he liked to draw him and Peggy in these buildings as superheroes, decades ago. In his mind, they kicked a lot of ass. She came across the sketches a few times, and they always seemed to disappear. If he happened to find them hidden in her room, he never said a thing.

He knew she was hopelessly in love with him, and he knew that she was his entire world and then some to him.

One night, on his parent's anniversary, he dredged up the small box he had the only things that had belonged to his mother in. The moment it opened, he breathed in and for a second, he was back home in Brooklyn with her. They were in their tiny, beaten down apartment, and he was sitting in her lap as she read him a book.

Steve had swiped away his tears and began to carefully look through the box. He'd only taken it down to look through his parent's wedding photos. When he found his mother's wedding ring, his eyes filled with tears once more, and this time he let them fall.

It was a delicate silver band with a small diamond set in the ring itself. She'd always loved it, no matter how many people told her it was too simple or that Steve's dad didn't love her enough to get her a bigger stone. She knew that her husband had gotten it for her because she didn't need an extravagant ring to know he loved her. All she needed was him.

That was the moment Steve Rogers realized that he was going to ask Peggy Carter to marry him.

He took one of Peggy's favorite rings one day while she was at work and got his mother's ring resized so it'd fit perfectly. Peggy definitely knew something was up, seeing as Steve was an awful liar, but she couldn't quite figure it out.

Steve was always one for grand gestures, but he knew that she would prefer him to do something like this in a way that'd be special to her. Eventually, he decided that he'd drag her off on a replica of their first date. The diner, trespassing, stargazing and all.

That night, Steve was shaking so hard he could barely pick up the small box that held the ring. He spent half the night waiting for her to get home, and he told himself again and again that he was okay, he was going to be okay, she would probably say yes.

When his phone rang and her number lit up the screen, he answered immediately, trying to keep his voice from wavering. Peggy wasn't the one on the other line, though. The only thing on the other line was someone calmly telling him that Peggy had been shot, and she was well on her way to the hospital.

He didn't get to hear anything else that they had to say, because in a split second, he was racing to go see the girl he loved, ignoring every speed limit there was.

He got there just as they wheeled her in on a gurney. Steve wished she'd been unconscious but she was wide awake, her face scrunched up in pain, her breathing heavy. There was no trace of color in her cheeks and Steve just wanted to pick her up and make everything better.

They operated as best they could, and she made it through the surgery. Nobody expected her to make it through the night. Steve stayed at her side throughout that entire night, holding her hand and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. He'd set the ring right near him on her hospital bed. She'd say yes, he told himself.

She woke up at two in the morning. Her hand tightened to hold his and Steve jerked awake.

“Steve, darling. God, Steve, I'm so sorry, my love.”

She had nothing to be sorry about, he swore up and down that she never had to apologize for anything at all. Her hand moved a bit, and bumped into the box holding the ring.

“What's that?”

Steve got down on one knee and popped open the box so she could see it.

'Peggy? Will you marry me?'

He'd known her his whole life, and he'd only seen her cry a handful of times. Once when her parents died, and three other times, all when she thought Steve was going to die, when he was still a small, sickly little thing.

She cried.

“We've always made a good team, don't you think?”

'Yeah, Peg, yeah we have.'

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else, Steve. I would love to be yours forever.”

She took the box and closed it.

“You're going to make a great husband one day, yeah? You're going to make a great team with someone.”

Steve cried.

“I love you, Steve. You're going to have a wonderful life.”

'I love you, Peggy.'

“Don't forget me, Steve.”

'I couldn't if I tried.'

“Can we look at the stars?”

He moved her bed over so she could see the stars out the window. She patted the spot on the bed next to her.

“Sit next to me?”

He did. He never could say no to her.

“Make a wish, Steve.”

He wished that she'd make it through the night. She wouldn't tell him what she wished for.

“If I tell you, it won't come true, darling!”

He laughed and kissed her softly. She smiled into the kiss.

They stargazed and fell asleep together one last time.

She told him she loved him at 5:21 am and then she was gone.

Steve learned that day that star wishes are not always granted. The doctors came in and found him cradling her, the only noises in the room being the flatlining of the heart monitor and him begging her to come back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that right there is the end of chapter one. I'm so so so sorry, so many tears were shed while writing this chapter. Try not to die, y'all.
> 
> Comments fuel my desire to write. No, really, constructive criticism is so great, if you have any to give, comment below. If you just want to comment because you liked it, that's also incredibly great! 
> 
> No worries, I will be updating soon!!


	2. Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy I'm updating with every 2,000 words I write so that I don't run out of material and make you guys wait ages for me to get my shit together. expect maybe another update this week but other than that who knows tbh

A part of him died with her that day. He went home and stuffed the ring that should have been on her finger back into the box of his mother's things. The apartment felt as if she was still there. When he went to fall into their bed, the bed she should be in next to him, it still smelled just like her.

 

He buried himself in her pillow and cried himself to sleep.

In the next few weeks, Steve painted. People loved his new pieces, paint splattered on a canvas to form faces and people. They said they could really feel the emotion in them. He became increasingly popular, and once Tony Stark began buying up as many of his pieces as he could, Steve's art was thrust into the limelight.

 

Of course, it was just his art. He refused to show himself in public. His apartment had become the only place he saw, day in and day out. Groceries were delivered to his door and his friends were ignored when they showed up at the door with pre-made meals and a shoulder to cry on.

 

The day of the funeral came. He helped carry her coffin into the chapel. Everyone pretended he wasn't crying.

 

Silent tears wet his eyelashes and ran down his cheeks. He didn't hear a thing the priest said, not until he was called up to give a speech. At the podium, he realized that none of the people there knew who Peggy really was. He didn't want them to know. She was his, and he wasn't ready to share her. He didn't think he ever would be.

 

Excusing himself and apologizing, he went to sit back down. Nobody else went up to speak.

 

After it had ended, he stayed in the chapel by himself. The church pew was uncomfortable, but he got to spend a little more time with her. He wanted to say something with her, but he knew there'd be no response. Steve didn't know if he could handle not hearing her give some witty response.

 

He got up and went to stand in front of her coffin. It was closed, and he didn't know whether to be thankful or sad about that. On one hand, he'd never be able to see her again. On the other, he wouldn't have been able to stomach seeing her like that.

 

So he stood.

 

'Peggy...I've been painting. People love it. I'd be happy about it if you were here to see it. Although, I guess this wouldn't have happened if you were here.'

 

He laughed bitterly and let out a choked sob.

 

'I love you, Peg. Just, come back to me. Please, just-'

 

The door opened behind him, and there was the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor. A blonde went to stand right next to him, brushing her hair out of her face and staring directly at him.

 

“You're Steve, right?”

 

He stared and nodded, hoping she'd end it at that.

 

“I'm Sharon Carter, Peggy's older sister. It's nice to meet you.”

 

Steve's heart all but stopped right then and there.

 

“What, do I have something on my face?”

 

'Peggy...never mentioned having a sister.'

 

She looked like he'd punched her in the stomach. Steve wished for a second that he wouldn't have said anything.

 

“Oh.”

 

Her eyes had filled with tears. The door was right over there, if he just inched towards it, he could get out.

 

“We didn't have the best relationship. I'm three years older than she is, and I left home when I was about 16. I never wanted to leave her.”

 

She let out a shuddering sigh.

 

“I hope she forgave me. Before she died and all.”

 

Steve looked over at her.

 

'She was a very forgiving person, even to people who fucked her over. I don't know exactly what you did to her, but she probably forgave you. But then again, I'm not her.'

 

They fell into a tense silence after that, and Steve could feel her eyes boring into him. He turned around to leave, but before he could, she put her hand on his shoulder.

 

“Let's go out for a drink.”

 

'I'm sorry?'

 

“I don't do funerals too well. I want to go get drunk and that usually goes better when you have someone else to drink with. If it helps any, I'll pay?”

 

Steve remembered going down to a bar with her, he remembered the burn of the alcohol, and then nothing else.

 

At first, it was almost as if they had a silent agreement that they weren't friends, they were barely acquaintances. They were just two fuckers who were hurting that went out to get drunk as hell every so often.

 

It became a friendship, he guessed. He didn't like her, but he didn't dislike her. Steve just needed someone that wasn't there to look out for his wellbeing.

 

They stopped parting ways after they went to the bar. Neither of them knew when it happened, but Steve started waking up on her bathroom floor, or he'd find her passed out on his couch.

 

Eventually, they stopped just going to the bar, they'd end up going out to lunch, or for coffee. She enjoyed being around her, and she was pretty good company.

 

She had warmed up to him more than he'd warmed up to her. He wasn't stupid, he felt the lingering touches, he saw her eyes going down to his lips whenever he spoke. Steve knew. He just didn't do anything to stop it.

 

Almost nothing changed when she kissed him. They kept ending up at her house. They kept going out together.

 

He hated it.

 

It felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal. Every time she kissed down his neck, every time he held her, he lost himself a bit more. Waking up with hickeys down his neck every damn morning made him want to peel his own skin off and step out of it.

 

But he didn't deserve anything better than this. He'd gotten his one good thing, and now she was gone. This was the best he'd get and he was going to stick with it, even if every moment of it felt like he was being gutted.

 

Sharon never showed much interest in his job. In fact, she'd complain and complain that he spent too much time on his art and not enough with her. Although, when the money would come in, he'd never hear a peep out of her.

 

Steve didn't know why, but he didn't have a single drawing or painting of her. He'd never felt inclined to put the pencil to the paper and draw a likeness of her. Her smile, the way she looked when she was laughing, it wasn't something he felt like he needed to record. Sharon didn't mind.

 

They went on dates. He'd buy them dinner and she would drag him around the city afterwards. She was always overly excited about it. Sharon loved to window shop, Steve didn't get the appeal in looking at things you couldn't buy.

 

Every so often, he'd buy her a little trinket. A dress, some diamond earrings she liked. For her birthday, he just went down to the jewelers and got her a necklace with the biggest diamonds he could find. She liked expensive things, and didn't usually care what they looked like. If it sparkled and had lots of zeros in the price, she'd probably love it.

 

Steve finished paying off him and Peggy's apartment. He moved to a newer, bigger one. As he brought in the bag filled with his clothing and a few boxes of his art supplies, he tried telling himself that it was just because he wanted a change of scenery. The house smelled new and felt empty. He tried to tell himself he was okay with that.

 

It was a lifeless place, mostly white and grey and black. The colors correlated with his emotions.

 

He kept painting. They were lifeless, devoid of all emotion. His pieces were dark and numb. Surprisingly enough, he still gained more and more of a following. People seemed to think there was an unknown meaning in these new pieces. If they looked hard enough, they thought they might figure it out. Steve hoped that if they found it, they'd let him know what it was.

 

Sharon lost her job. He didn't know where she worked, he noticed, but they let her go, she said. Steve offered to let her stay with him until she got back on her feet. By the end of the week, her things were moved in. She slept next to him, and before her first week living there was over, he became accustomed to working all night and sleeping during the day. Steve assured her that this was a normal occurrence.

 

He tried his hardest to keep her happy, and the only way to do so seemed to be through money. So he gave it to her. She'd come home with a new purse, new clothes, new decorations, new anything she wanted. He linked their bank accounts and just let her go do what she wanted. It made her happy, and it felt like the only thing he could really give her.

 

Over the next few months, she went out more and more, until they saw each other maybe once or twice a week. Steve surprised himself when he found that he missed her.

 

Sharon's friends would come by occasionally. Those would be the days he'd run out of paint or charcoal and would have to go buy some more. Steve would almost always be at home, sleeping or painting. It seemed to be all he'd been able to do since Peggy died.

 

He'd moved to try and escape everything, but now he felt more trapped than ever. The walls of the apartment were all he ever saw, and that was probably his fault. But he couldn't leave. He had nowhere to go.

 

Despite everything, Steve had come to miss Sharon when she wasn't there. She was the only person he had, and he wasn't sure what his life would be like without her. While they weren't even very close, they still talked occasionally, he didn't have anyone else who'd want him. Hell, he was lucky that someone like her wanted someone like him.

 

It seemed like ages had passed since they first met. From then to now, not much had changed, except that she was the only one who constantly came home so drunk that she couldn't remember her own name.

 

He didn't know why he stayed. There was no longer any semblance of a physical aspect of the relationship. They hadn't shared a room for months, and while this allowed Steve to actually get some sleep at night, he knew that wasn't a part of a functioning romantic relationship. They were, for lack of a better word, friends. Maybe not even that.

 

This left a lot of room for Steve to think. He hated being alone with his thoughts, since Peggy died, Steve spent most of his time keeping himself busy. When he had nothing to do, nobody to break the silence, he sometimes felt like she was there. It felt as if she would just walk in through the front door and bitch slap him back into reality.

 

Whenever the door opened, he realized that that was exactly what he'd come to expect, as every time he saw Sharon stumble in, disappointment was all he felt.

 

Nevertheless, he stayed.

 

Sharon approached him one day, about a year since they first started really being together.

 

“Steve, we need to talk.”

 

She had done this several times before, but not once had she been sober when doing so. His heart all but stopped right then and there, fear running through his veins. Steve sat (he fell) onto the couch and waited anxiously for her to talk.

 

“We should get married, don't you think? We've been together for over a year and we already live with each other. I mean, it's not like we're going to find anyone else, either.”

 

Relief coursed through his veins, immediately followed by confusion. He wasn't sure.

 

Steve didn't know where this relationship had been going, and now he realized that this was inevitable. He wasn't unhappy, in fact, this was as happy as he'd been in a while. What he didn't notice was that being as happy as he'd been in years didn't mean he was actually happy.

 

Happiness was hard to come by, he'd learned. Without her, he wasn't sure if there would be any happiness left in the world for him. And if he had no happiness, then what the hell was the point in living?

 

Peggy would have wanted him to live. She wanted for him to live his life, for him to be happy. If this was the best he could get, then that was that.

 

So he nodded.

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

'Yes. I, uh...yeah it is.'

 

She did a little happy dance and kissed him on the forehead.

 

“Alright, I'm going out with the girls tonight, I'll see you later!”

 

Steve noticed she didn't say she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd like to apologize for demonizing Sharon for those of you who actually like her. She's a weird character to work with, seeing as how she has legitimately no personality in the movies, and she's only had like .05 seconds of screen time. And from what we've seen, I kinda see her as an asshole, due to her talkin bout how much Peggy meant to her and then immediately going after Steve, who she knew meant everything to her aunt. Idk idk idk idk idk so when i got this prompt I was just going to make it seem like an unhealthy relationship and I accidentally turned her into a horrible bitch 
> 
> IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TURN OUT LIKE THIS but anyway 
> 
> Steve's theme song basically: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtAAikJNboY
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!!! comments are the reason I get up in the mornings and they give me the will to live. common criticism is greatly appreciated!!!


	3. I Swear I Thought I Dreamed Her

That was the night he started dreaming of Peggy again.

 

No matter how hard he'd tried to, he had never been able to manage to have a single dream involving her. It felt like a punishment for being with Sharon, Peggy's goddamn _sister_  of all people.

 

He didn't know if they qualified as dreams or nightmares. Every night, he'd wake up in a cold sweat, usually with tears leaking from his eyes. It was always like a punch in the gut. They'd be memories, clear as day.

 

They'd be going through an abandoned building while she took photos and he drew her, with her eyes sparkling and hair mussed up. She'd be asleep in his arms, they'd be having a picnic, or she'd be running back to the car with a basket full of someone's apples while he fired it up and drove right the fuck out of there.

 

Then he'd wake up and remember.

 

He'd remember that now, instead of waking up to soft kisses and lovestruck giggles, he woke up to Sharon passed out on the couch, the smell of sex and another man's cologne filling the room. Steve always pretended not to see the hickeys covering her neck and chest. She didn't mention them and neither did he.

 

Despite all this, they were still getting married. He didn't want to die alone, and he assumed she didn't either.

 

Peggy's touch always lingered, it was almost as if she'd actually been there. It'd been so long since he'd had any semblance of human contact. Sharon gave him a peck on the cheek once in a blue moon, and that was about it. He just wanted someone to be with him. Steve just wanted someone to genuinely love.

 

Steve didn't even consider going back to his old apartment to get his mother's ring. It wasn't for Sharon. It never would be for her.

 

So, he took her to a jewelry store of her choosing and let her pick out whatever ring she wanted. She chose a ring made of white gold with one of the biggest diamonds Steve had ever seen, studded with more smaller diamonds than he could count. They bought it right away.

 

He didn't bother to find out what size ring she wore.

 

He'd say that nothing changed after that, but it did. The paints and canvases he favored were shoved into the far corner of his studio. Steve went out one day and came back with virtually everything related to watercolors. They quickly became the only thing he used.

 

Steve painted his dreams.

 

Peggy was beautiful, the colors danced across the page just as gracefully as she did. Her soft brown hair and fierce eyes that always demanded respect from everyone. The almost regal way she used to hold herself. All of it put onto the paper for all to see.

 

He started selling more than he ever had before. The demand for his pieces went up, and he had more than enough to sell. Steve painted twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

 

Some days he'd wake up on the floor after a week of not sleeping, only to find that he'd slept for a good day or two. Those were the days he locked himself in his room, crawled under the covers, and imagined what his life could have been like. Those were the worst days.

 

It'd been almost half a year, maybe more, since he and Sharon had gotten engaged. They had made absolutely no plans for the wedding, in fact, it hadn't even been mentioned. Steve had no complaints.

 

It'd been almost half a year, maybe more, when Sharon walked into the living room the one time Steve was there. Instead of plopping down on the couch next to him, she pulled over a chair and set it down so that it was facing him. She sat down with a pleading smile on her face.

 

“Steve, honey?”

 

He'd never had to fight the urge to gag as much as he did right then and there.

 

'Yeah?'

 

“I've been thinking a lot lately, and I noticed that this apartment is getting kinda boring, don't you think?”

 

She wrinkled her nose, as if she was disgusted by her surroundings. Steve stared.

 

'I haven't really thought of it, but I mean, I like it. I have my studio, and we both have our rooms. The kitchen is nice, and so's the view.'

 

Sharon rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly.

 

“It's soooo cramped though….and we could really use a change of scenery! The city just gets so tedious to live in sometimes, right?”

 

'I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure you lived in the city before this and were just fine with it.'

 

She glared. He was pretty sure she was looking straight into his fucking soul.

 

“I want to have a nice little house, Stevie. Let's build our dream house, why don't we? We could go to the suburbs and live in a huuuuge house with a million rooms and a pool and everything, where we never get bored of anything!”

 

The fact that she'd gone from talking about a nice little house to what he was pretty sure anyone else would consider a mansion was so funny to him that he laughed out loud.

 

'I'm not moving to the suburbs.'

 

Before that day, he'd always just gone along with what she said and what she asked. This was really the first time Steve had basically said no. Her eyebrows shot up so far that they practically disappeared. She regained her composure pretty damn quickly though, and almost immediately, her eyes filled with tears.

 

“But Stevie...I just want us to be happy. Don't you? I thought you loved me, baby.”

 

And that was it. The killing blow. Every ounce of strength he'd had to say no completely dissolved. He did love her, didn't he? She was always there for him, and she just wanted what was best for him.

 

'Fine, we can move.'

 

She was on her feet in a split second, a huge smile on her face.

 

“Really?? We can go??”

 

'There's a condition, though.'

 

Sharon sat back down and pouted like a spoiled child.

 

'I get to choose where we move. Whether it's the suburbs or virtually the middle of nowhere, I get to pick.'

 

Her mouth opened to interrupt, and he held up a finger to shush her.

 

'I'm not done.'

 

She snapped her mouth shut and glared.

 

'I get to design the house. To be completely fucking honest, it's my money, and I want to make sure I like where I'm living. You can look it over when I'm done and see if you want to add anything, but I get to have control over that as well.'

 

There was a tense silence. She was staring into his soul, again.

 

'You can think that over, and if you don't like it, we can always stay right here.'

 

It was really obvious that she was not the kind of person that took too kindly to not being in control. She was jiggling her leg and glaring down at the floor, and Steve was sitting, eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

 

“Fine.”

 

He felt like he'd won, for the first time since this had all started. She got up and dragged the chair back to the table, slamming it down noisily on the ground. Steve was pretty sure that she may have managed to somehow dent the tile floor with a wooden chair.

 

Within the next ten minutes, she'd changed, slapped on some makeup, and done her hair. Her heels clicked against the tile floor.

 

“I'm going out, don't bother to wait up.”

 

He hadn't been planning to in the first place.

 

That night, he locked himself in his studio and pushed his watercolors into the corner with the rest of his unused supplies. Carefully, carefully, he placed his finished pieces of Peggy in a safe place.

 

Rulers and protractors and straightedges were pulled out of nowhere. Compasses, absolutely anything else needed to make straight lines and design a house. He snatched up the biggest pieces of paper he had.

 

Then he got to work.

 

He drew up a two story log cabin, somewhat modern but still woodsy and cozy. Plenty of windows, for the light to filter in. A window seat in the bedroom to look out into the forest, a porch to sit out on to soak in the sunlight and tranquility. He wanted a nice quiet kitchen with an island to sit down at and just stare out the window happily.

 

It was beautiful, and oh how he wanted it.

 

But he quickly realized she'd never be happy with this. It was too small, at least for her. Too cozy, not enough. She wanted splendor and space and enough rooms to fit three families. If that didn't happen, who the fuck knew what kind of hell she'd put him through once they built the house he wanted?

 

So, Steve went to just tear his fucking dreams in half one more time. He took the designs and went to rip them to shreds, but instead, held them up and studied them. If Peggy were here, what would she have wanted him to do? She would rant and rave about all the adventures he could have in the forest, how exciting it would be to live in that house, how lovely life would be there.

 

On that night, Steve made sure his dreams were hidden in a safe place. This time, he kept his dreams. Just in case.

 

The design for a new house took him nearly no time. It looked kind of sloppy and it felt soulless, but Sharon loved it. It was enormous, with two chimneys and more rooms than Steve cared to count. There were windows everywhere, and while she adored it, he felt almost like people would be watching him through the huge goddamn windows. They were more like clear walls.

 

Even so, she immediately went to look for the best of the best to build 'their' dream house.

 

Steve spent too much time sketching the house he'd wanted. It was a house for two, yet he was always the only inhabitant. He'd learned to be okay with being alone, and the time he didn't spend sketching, he spent trying to convince himself that he would be fine with being alone in a house that empty.

 

He told himself he believed it.

 

Within the next few weeks, Steve searched for plots of land that'd be able to fit the stupidly huge house. It became really obvious really damn quickly that there was nothing in the area, so he started looking further.

 

It got to the point where he was driving a bit over an hour away from the apartment just to go look for some goddamn land. He grew increasingly frustrated, and rightfully so. The thing was, it wasn't like he couldn't find any land. He'd found a bunch of places he could buy up. The only issue was that his perfectionistic ass didn't think any of them were just right. So, he kept looking.

 

And then he found it.

 

It was 215 goddamn acres of land. About 75 acres of that were suitable to build a house on, but of those 215, 140 were in the forest. The rest of it was beautiful, lush wilderness. Basically, it was an entire fucking forest for sale.

 

Steve had a thing for the wilderness. As a child, when he was sick, which had been virtually all the time, his mom would sit next to him on his bed and tell him stories. She'd weave gorgeous tales of mystical creatures dancing through the woods, playing with each other and flitting among the trees.

 

It had always been the mermaids that had captivated him. His mother said that the mermaid's eyes would glow at night, and while it might have sounded strange, even scary at first, the more you thought of it, the more beautiful it sounded. Their eyes would light up the pitch black ocean and lead lost sailors to shore.

 

“Mermaids are just humans that got dragged down by a siren. They don't completely die, but they do forget everything. If they're not careful, they could become a siren as well. They just need someone to help them remember.”

 

Any time Steve would think of them, his heart hurt so badly for them. They didn't deserve what they'd gotten, and he'd try his best to hide his tears whenever his mother told a particularly sad story of them.

 

So, the second he heard about it, the second he was told that it was for sale and not just a park or some shit, he snatched it up. That land was _his_ , and if anyone else wanted it, they could pry it from his cold, dead fingers.

 

Although his mother had always told him of the forest, Steve had never had a chance to actually, you know, go to one. As a child, he'd been small and sickly and allergic to basically everything. A forest wasn't a place you wanted to bring him unless you were bringing an ambulance with you.

 

What better way to finally explore the forest than to straight up buy a whole damn forest?

 

He had ridiculous amounts of money. Steve rarely spent it on anything other than new t-shirts for painting, groceries, and the bills. Now, while Steve didn't spend it, Sharon sure as hell did. He gave her access to most of what was in his checking account, but he had millions in his savings. Steve sure as hell had never told her that, but it was still there.

 

This was how Steve Rogers bought his land in less than a week. He paid it in full on the spot, and off he went to go look for someone to build him a goddamn house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all liked the chapter!!
> 
> I love comments and if anyone has any constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it!!!


	4. That's When My Baby Found Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated since school started entirely because I haven't written since school started. I'm so sorryyyyyyy!!!!! But now, Nanowrimo has started up, and I'm hell-bent on finishing this fic this month. So expect more updates than usual!!!!

Of course, while he was happy as all hell, Sharon had complaints. For one, it was an hour and a half away, and however would she meet up with her girlfriends now? Also, why was the land so big? Why was there so much forest? Wasn't that a little unnecessary, Steve?!

 

Her complaints (whining) fell on deaf ears. He was happier and more excited than he'd been in over two years.

 

Steve started falling into a healthier routine. He'd try his best to sleep every night, and while it didn't always work, it started becoming easier. He would never fail to wake up too early, but instead of going and locking himself in his studio, he'd try going for a run.

 

He'd always end up panting and half dead by the first mile, but he felt better when he did it.

 

This is how it went for the next month. Steve slept, and actually remembered to eat. He started feeling better, feeling happier, surprisingly enough.

 

He started painting again.

 

Steve dredged up his oil paints and canvases, and he began to create worlds.

 

They were magical. He created mermaids, their haunted, glowing eyes that followed you wherever you went. Faeries with their dainty wings hanging behind them as they sat on a delicate flower. Wood nymphs, peeking out at you from behind a tree.

 

They felt real, people said. Everyone could have sworn that they were real. Each and every one of them were excited that his pieces began to come to life once more.

 

So was Steve.

 

A month later, Sharon came to him while he was eating his breakfast and slapped a business card down in front of him.

 

'What's this?'

 

She looked down at him disdainfully.

 

“ It's the person who's going to build our fucking house, who else?”

 

Steve sighed and kept eating his cereal. She was already dressed to go out.

 

“ Whatever. I already hired him, he's going to be at the lot today. Have fun over there, I won't wait up for you. Don't bother waiting up for me either.”

 

Sharon walked out, hips swaying and stilettos clacking against the tile.

 

He ate his breakfast, trying to ignore the bitter taste she always left in his mouth. His eyes drifted to the business card in front of him. As an artist, he tended to be picky about shit like this. If the font had been in comic sans or the card looked like it had been done in word art, he'd have told Sharon that he'd find someone himself.

 

Thankfully, it was the perfect mixture of elegant and simple. The card was minimalistic, yet it still called attention to itself.

 

Steve would be meeting up with a James Barnes, and thanks to Sharon, he had no goddamn idea what time he had to be there. He did know that he had to meet up with him at the lot, though, so he grabbed his shit and jumped onto his fucking motorcycle.

 

Driving there was always nice for him. It went from city, to suburbs, to a really nice in between area. The small town still had houses and some apartment complexes, but when you drove to the outskirts of the town, the houses grew more spaced out, with lush forest as far as the eye could see.

 

The one thing he could do without is the fact that he always had to pass he and Peggy's diner. He tried to ignore it. If he stared straight ahead and blocked out his surroundings a bit, it usually worked.

 

About forty five minutes into the drive, his stupid damn blueteeth earpiece thing beeped, notifying him that he had a call (Sharon had insisted he buy it, he still had no fucking clue how to work it). He pulled over to the side of the road and yanked out his actual phone. Steve answered before he noticed it was an unknown number.

 

'This is Steve.'

 

He'd been expecting a drunk phone call from Sharon, but instead got a rough, sleepy voice on the other end.

 

“ Hey there, this is James Barnes?I'm the one who's going to help you build your /dream house/. I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna be about thirty minutes late.”

 

The first thing that went through his head was that James had a /really/ nice voice. Steve was glad to see that he had his priorities straight. The second thing was that thank fucking god James was going to be late, now he wouldn't look like the dumbass. He went to say something, but it was cut short.

 

“ God, I know it's super unprofessional and I wouldn't blame ya at all if you wanna drop me from the project after this, but I've been sleeping like shit lately and I just woke up, I'm so goddamn sorry.”

 

'Hey, it's completely okay. I actually don't even know what time the appointment is, my...fiancée, she didn't bother telling me.'

 

Steve had never actually given her that title, and now that he'd said it out loud it just felt wrong. The laughter from before died almost as quickly as his feelings for her had.

 

“ Oh, it's at...well, three o' clock now, I guess. I'll see ya then, then?”

 

The clock hit 2:32 right as he said that. James laughed nervously.

 

“ That was a weird sentence, wasn't it? It was, wasn’t it. Sorry again, I'll just..I'll see ya at three!”

 

Steve smiles and nods, then realizes that James can't actually see him.

 

'Your sentence was fine for someone who just woke up. Even better for someone who just woke up at /two thirty in the afternoon/.'

 

The man on the other line snorted, and Steve was pretty sure he could hear his smile from thirty miles away.

 

“ Damn, I guess the only reason you were cool with me bein late was so you could rib me about it, huh?”

 

'I'm not going to confirm or deny that.'

 

They were both laughing their dumb asses off, and somewhere in his head, he realized that this was the first time he'd really laughed, or even had a conversation, in over a year.

 

'I'll see you at three, James. It was great talking to you.'

 

“ Alright Steve, see ya then!”

 

He hung up. The rest of the trip suddenly felt really lonely.

 

Steve went on driving.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he could see where his lot started. He breathed in the fresh scent of pine, and the sun warmed his skin, and the slightest smile tugged at the corners of his lips. For the next five minutes, all of the bad feelings in him melted away. He felt like he was free for a bit.

 

A clearing came into view up ahead, and Steve parked right next to an old Volkswagen bug. Just as he put his kickstand down, the door to the driver's side of the car popped open.

 

He turned to say hello and introduce himself, but stopped short, because /holy fuck/.

 

James was fucking gorgeous. That was the only way to say it. His eyes couldn't seem to decide between blue, grey, or green, and they were bright and mischievous. They were almost familiar to Steve. James seemed surprised, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. And out of nowhere, a huge, sunshiny smile spread across his face, his entire being lighting up.

 

That was the moment Steve knew he was fucked.

 

“ Holy shit, /Steve/?”

 

Steve had been so focused on James that he hadn't noticed himself standing and gaping like a total idiot. James started walking over to him with this huge grin on his face.

 

'Oh, sorry, hey! It's nice to meet you, I'm-'

 

“ Steve Rogers? You're Steve Rogers, right?”

 

Steve's smile faltered. As an artist, he'd never actually shown his face to the public, and he really wasn't in the mood to talk to a fan at the moment. And if James was a fan, Steve was seriously considering hopping back onto his bike and getting the fuck outta dodge. How much digging would the architect have had to do to get a photo of him? He just laughed nervously.

 

'Uh, yeah, I am.'

 

“ We went to college together!! Shit, ya probably knew me as Bucky.”

 

He gave a little bow, his left hand still stuffed in his pocket.

 

“ Well, Bucky Barnes, at your service!”

 

And it came flooding back. Peggy had introduced them once, she and Bucky had a few classes together. He was sure he had a few sketches of him somewhere.

 

'Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you at first!'

 

“ Of course ya wouldn't recognize me, I've gotten much better lookin. I'm like a fine wine, I get better with age.”

 

Bucky winked exaggeratedly, coaxing a smile out of Steve. They stood in silence, Steve not knowing what to say, Bucky fidgeting awkwardly. He seemed nervous, his eyes seemingly unable to decide whether to look at Steve or the ground. He thrust his right hand out in front of him.

 

“ Like I said before, hi! Um, I'm Bucky Barnes. Nice to re-meet ya!”

 

Steve cautiously went to shake his hand, and as he did so, he took the time to study the other man.

 

He remembered him, if only because of the times he'd drawn him. Bucky's eyes had always been one of Steve's favorite things about him. They were expressive and thoughtful.

 

'The feeling's mutual, Mr. Barnes.'

 

Bucky wrinkled his nose in feigned disgust.

 

“ Mr. Barnes? The only Mr. Barnes I've ever known is my Pa. You can just call me Bucky, pal.”

 

Steve let out a nervous laugh.

 

'Sorry, sorry, I just don't want to seem rude, you know? You can call me Steve, just in case you were wondering.'

 

“ It's alright, man. It's not a big deal!”

 

Bucky stopped for a bit, tilting his head like a curious puppy, looking over at Steve's bike.

 

“ Where's your girl? She not comin?”

 

Looking down at the ground, Steve snapped back to reality, remembering who he was and why exactly he was here. The smile hadn't left his face, but it had been warped by bitterness.

 

'Nah, she isn't. I don't think she's gonna be here much while we're working on the house.'

 

“ Alrighty, then let's go scope out the land and you can pitch me some ideas? I'm sure you've got plenty of good ones, you're a damn good artist!”

 

The smaller man pointed over to a random point into the distance, an excited and determined look on his face.

 

“ Onwards! Let's go see where the fuck we're gonna put your damn house!”

 

Steve was beginning to think this wasn't going to be as bad as he'd originally thought it would.

 

Bucky walked with a hop in his step and his arms swinging back and forth. He looked every which way, taking in every single thing around him. Steve knew the feeling, the need to see every individual detail. Looking at the other man, the eagerness and exhilarated look on his face as he soaked in the sun and basked in the tranquility of the area, Steve did something he hadn't done in quite a while. He remembered.

 

Years ago, he and his mother would sit out on the balcony and just /see/. He saw her, eyes closed peacefully with a contented look gracing her beautiful face, rocking back and forth in her eggshell blue rocking chair. Her dainty hands, half covered by the long white sleeves of her nightgown, rested in her lap. She was always clutching a delicate cup of chamomile tea, warm tendrils of steam floating up from the surface.

 

Every time she opened her deep blue eyes, she'd see him. Small and frail, his golden hair falling in his face. He would be staring intensely down at his sketchbook, his long fingers gripping a pencil, and whenever Sarah got a bit of extra money, a stick of charcoal. It moved expertly, forever immortalizing his mother's beautiful figure.

 

His memories were knocked off of his current train of thought as he quite literally ran into Bucky. Steve felt his face flush and eyes go wide, but as his mouth opened to apologize a million times and then some, Bucky snorted and nudged Steve with his shoulder.

 

“ Just can't stay away from me, huh? Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm gorgeous, but at least take me out for dinner before ya try to make any /physical/ advancements”

 

He punctuated the last bit of his sentence with an exaggerated wink and eyebrow waggle.

 

'Damn, you caught me. I'm sorry, I just couldn't keep myself from getting lost in your eyes.'

 

B ucky's nose crinkled up and his eyes nearly disappeared as his smile widened, cheeks dusted with pink. Was it from the sun or from his sudden bout of laughter? Steve smiled along, and he definitely didn't notice that some of what Bucky had said was true.

 

“ Sorry for stoppin so suddenly, though. I saw a bluebird! They're my favorites, and I see em around here every so often, so I just /had/ to see it, ya know?”

 

'Yeah, I get that. I don't know what they're called, but my favorite ones are the birds that look little and plain, but when they turn around, BAM! They've got beautiful bright yellow chests, and it's like….'

 

Blue eyes were fixated on Steve, listening intently to his words, a lazy lopsided grin on his face. Steve had forgotten how it felt to have people enjoy when he spoke, had almost forgotten how to speak altogether. This may have been the first legitimate conversation he'd had in almost a year

 

'...It makes me think of sunshine and lemonade on a hot summer day, you know? Sounds kind of stupid now that I say it out loud though.'

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breathy, nervous laugh. Looking up, Bucky's brow had furrowed, his head tilted the slightest bit.

 

“ That ain't stupid. It sounds real nice, actually. Bluebirds remind me of the forest, it just makes me happy! Seems to me like the birds you like make you happy too. That's what counts, at least in my book.”

 

Smiling, he turned and kept walking, pausing for a bit to look over at Steve, as if to ask him if he was coming along. He didn't have to ask him twice, Steve was definitely going along. Why wouldn't he? He was on his first walk through the woods with a beautiful man, the scent of pine trees and greenery surrounding them both.

 

Steve's entire body was singing, radiating happiness. Sharon had been all he'd known for what felt like centuries, it couldn't have just been a year, could it? A year of cold tile, frigid hearts, silent monochromatic rooms, a lifeless, pointless existence. And now, here he was, surrounded by color and life, the sights and sounds he'd waited a lifetime to see enveloping him. Like this, he could almost forget about everything.

 

Everything but the man walking happily along with him, whistling a happy little tune. Steve couldn't thank the world enough that of all the people to have as an architect, he had gotten Bucky. He was friendly, and though Steve wasn't the best at making conversation, or just interacting with other people, he didn't seem deterred in the slightest by this.

 

It didn't help at all that he was the kind of person that makes your heart jump the second you see them. His eyes were the kind that made you melt, and his smile was the kind that made you unable to do the same.

 

This kid was going to kill him, he decided. Apparently, it wasn't just his face, he was beautiful everywhere, Steve had realized. The realization definitely had not come from the fact that he was walking directly behind Bucky, with a perfect view of his ass. Steve was better than that. Or so he told himself.

 

Mentally, he was having a battle with himself. He’d just met this guy, and already he was gawking at him like a lovesick teenager. Steve knew better, he had better back at home. Sharon loved him, and he loved her. He couldn’t be doing this anytime he left the house. 

  
It was just the fact that he hadn’t been around anyone but himself and his wife to be in ages. That was why while the sun was shining, the brightest thing he saw was Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After like 10,000 words, I finally introduced Bucky!!! God, I never meant for this fic to get so long. It was only supposed to be like 4,000 words :(
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!! Comments are the reason I get up in the morning, and common criticism helps me a bunch too!


	5. I Didn't Care Much How Long I Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably getting ahead of myself and posting too often for it to be good for you guys or me haha. I'll probably end up posting stuff faster than I write it oops. Either way, enjoy the updates while they come!!!!

All too soon, the forest led to a clearing, from which, if you squinted, you could see the road from. It was a perfect place to put the house for Sharon. Thankfully, it was more than large enough, although he was sure she would find something at fault with it. Maybe the amount of lawn work that'd have to be done. Who knew?

 

Steve stared off at the rest of the forest in the distance, wondering what it held. He imagined ponds, lakes even. Animals and climbing trees, small waterfalls. Small unknown flowers and new sights, all of which he knew would absolutely astound him. He wanted to bring his sketchbooks and charcoals and pastels to forever immortalize it all, even if just to keep it in his room once the house was built. He doubted that Sharon would enjoy him leaving to see the outdoors very often, if at all.

 

He wished he could explore more, find a place where he could sit and dream about the house he wanted. He wished he could have the damn house he wanted. He wished he wished he wished.

 

So despite it all, he looked around the area, attempting to mask his disappointment and longing, and spoke up.

  
  


'I think this would be a good place, don't you? It looks like a sturdy area.'

  
  


Bucky looked at him strangely.

  
  


“ Yeah, it would. I don’t know exactly what you’re going for, though, so I can’t really say yet.”

  
  


‘ Oh! I made a sketch of it a while before Sharon- uh, I called you in.’

  
  


“ That’d be great, actually. Usually people just bring me reference photos and I gotta sketch it out. I still will, ya know, but it’ll be nice to know exactly what you want. I’m excited to see what you’ve got, you’re a great artist.”

  
  
  


‘ Yeah, I’ve got it right here in my...bag?’

  
  


Steve felt around for it, and when his hands came up empty, he looked down and realized that he'd been so caught up in gawking at Bucky, he'd forgotten his bag on his bike. He felt his cheeks go red, internally cursing himself. Apparently, he could no longer do anything right when in the company of other people.

  
  


‘ Shit.’

  
  


“ Shit??”

  
  


Steve nodded enthusiastically.

  
  


‘ Yep. Shit.’

  
  


Steve took in a deep breath, praying to whatever gods were up in the sky to allow him to not look like as much of an idiot as he felt.

  
  


'So...I have it, right?'

  
  


Bucky cocked his head confusedly.

  
  


“ Yeah?”

  
  


'Well, I kinda left it way over there on my bike.'

  
  


Bucky did a quick 180 turn towards the general vicinity of where they were parked, then quickly looked back at Steve.

  
  


“ That's gonna be a bit of an issue, huh?”

  
  


Steve's stomach dropped. It definitely was an issue, seeing as it was a goddamn mile away.

  
  


'I'm so so sorry really I meant to get it but-'

  
  


The other man held a finger up to shush him.

  
  


“ You wanna know how you can repay me?”

  
  


'Uh-huh?'

  
  


A cocky, troublemaking grin spread across Bucky’s face.

  
  


“ Talk to me on the way there? Ya gotta answer my questions and everythin. Look me in the eyes and stuff. It ain’t gonna be that bad, sure ain’t gonna be bad for me. Not if you agree to it and I get to look into those pretty eyes you’ve got.”

  
  


Steve balked, not knowing exactly how to react. With every second he spent panicking internally, Bucky looked more and more worried. He wanted to say something, but god, he didn’t know how to. He hadn’t just talked in so long. Seconds before he finally got the courage to respond, Bucky cut in.

  
  


“ I'm sorry, I'm actin real unprofessional with you. I guess it's just that I know ya and I'm not too sure how to act around y-”

  
  


And he decided no words were needed. Steve just started walking back the way they came, leaving Bucky standing there, the words still stuck in his throat. Steve turned to the other man as he kept walking, 

  
  


‘ You gonna join me?’

  
  


Confusion flitted across Bucky’s face before it was replaced with a cheeky grin, relief showing clearly in his eyes. He jogged over as casually as possible. He caught up quickly (Steve hadn’t exactly gotten that far), and they were soon walking side by side, making their way back into the forest.

  
  


Good things happened in the forest, Steve had decided. Sharon might have hated it, but for the first time in a long time, he had something that made him happy, and he wasn’t ever letting go of it.

  
  


“ So.”

  
  


Steve quirked an eyebrow at Bucky, whose vibrant steel blue eyes looking over at him expectantly, strolling lazily along, hands stuffed in his pockets.

  
  


‘ So?’

 

Bucky chuckled amusedly.

 

“ Are all of our conversations gonna be made up of repeatin each other’s words?”

 

‘I don’t know, are you going to ask me any decent questions?’

 

An indignant squawk came from Bucky, who was mock offended for being teased by Steve. He held a hand up to his heart, remniscent of a snooty old english lady exclaiming “Why I never!!”. 

 

“Damn, that hurts. Ya cut me real deep there, buddy. 

 

Fine, I’ve got a decent question for ya, but I ain’t sure if you’re gonna like it, alright?”

 

Steve hesitated.

 

‘Alright, shoot’

 

“You strike me as the kinda person that’d want a house in the forest. Why the big-ass clearing? I could find you a nice place in the woods, I know em like the back of my hand, probably better.”

 

Before he could stop it, a bitter laugh slipped from his lips. 

 

‘Well, the reason for the big-ass clearing is probably because I’m looking to make a big-ass house”

 

“I mean, you can always make a huge house in the forest, ya know??”

 

Steve looked down, knowing full well that he could. Of course, though, he was on a tight leash. She was happy, he was the closest thing to happy as he was able to be.

 

After today, there was only thing going through his head: Was that really the closest thing to happiness he could get?? For the first time, he considered that maybe there was more than what he’d been getting.

 

‘Yeah, that sounds kind of nice. But I think that my fianceé would like the clearing better. It’s cleaner and neater, it’d be better for both of us, I guess.’

 

Bucky gave him a sideways look. 

 

From what Steve remembered, the kid had always been good at reading people. He was pretty sure that he’d known about Steve and Peggy before they had. When she’d told Bucky about it, he remembered the enormous smile that had spread across his face, his eyes lighting up, as they often did. He was a generally happy person, and it rubbed off on everyone around him. 

 

“Not to be nosey or anythin, but what about what you want?”

 

Steve frowned.

 

‘What about what I want?

 

“You ain’t thinkin about what you want, from what I’m seein. Don’t ya think you two could maybe compromise?”

 

‘Moving way out here was the compromise, actually. I make her a house, I get a forest. It’s the best thing I’m going to get, and I’m happy with that.’

 

Now they were both wearing matching frowns. He would rather see Bucky smiling, he decided. 

 

“Ya know what? I’ll take ya out to see the area anyway. Maybe we’ll see more of those birds you like, huh?”

 

‘That sounds really good, Bucky. Thank you, I’d probably end up getting lost if i went by myself.’

 

He quirked a smile, and the other man mirrored his expression.

 

“Do ya wanna know how many times I’ve gotten lost in these goddamn woods??? This fuckin property has been deserted for ages, and nobody even knew it had an owner. Even after it went up for sale, it took a helluva long time to get bought up.”

 

‘Really?? It’s such a beautiful plot of land, though.’

 

As soon as he said it, Steve seemed to realize that everyone definitely did not have as much money as he did. Based on the look on Bucky’s face, he had realized the exact same thing.

 

“I’m gonna be honest with ya here, Steve, this is a fuckin expensive buy. 

 

One thing I am happy about, though, is that you’re the one that bought it, and not some stuffy businessman trying to build another shitty apartment complex.” 

 

‘I am too. I just love the forest. I mean, I’ve never actually been IN a forest before today, but I still adore it.

 

When I was a kid, I’d sketch and paint and occasionally attempt to sculpt things based off of what I knew and had seen of the woods. Looking back, obviously it isn’t the best work due to it being shit from when I was maybe six years old, but it just doesn’t capture the vibrancy and the life that there is here. At some point I’m just going to pack my shit in my actual car and bring it out here to try and get it on canvas. Paper works too. As long as I can take my memory of it and make it so I’ll always have it right there with me to remind me of that time, it doesn't matter if it's on a used napkin. It just has to be there.’

 

The sun started shining again, in the form of a brilliant smile next to him. His hands itched for a pencil and his sketchbook for the first time in ages. 

 

“Next time you come out here then, grab your stuff and we can talk about what ya want while hikin or some shit like that, yeah?”

 

‘I think that would be really nice.’

 

And it would be. He had something to look forward to now, something to be excited about. 

 

Before he knew it, they’d finally made it back to the car(s?). Did a motorcycle count as a car? Steve didn’t know, but he sure as hell would look into it later. Grabbing his bag off of his bike, he rooted around in it for a bit before producing his sketch of the house. He almost didn’t want to give it to the architect, wanted to burn it and go back to the apartment for his house, his dream.  _ Here you are _ , he’d say,  _ this is what I’ve always wanted, what Peggy would have wanted. _

 

She would have wanted it too, he realized. Their days would have been spent doing dumb shit that would get their hearts pounding, with the added bonus of her musical laughter and angelic smile next to him. 

 

That alone was enough to make the longing for it almost unbearable. Whether it was for her or the house, he didn’t know. Possibly both. 

 

“Hey, are ya okay?”

 

Steve came back to reality at the sound of a voice. He’d been staring down at the rolled up sketch for who knows how long, and Bucky was looking over at him, concern painted on his face. 

 

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Here it is.’

 

As the other man looked over, he considered telling him that no, this was not what he wanted. It sounded so selfish, all that was going through his head was  _ I want I want I want. _ What about what Sharon wanted?

 

He thought about how Sharon wanted everything. He started thinking that he might be allowed to want some things too.

 

“Goddamn, this is really good. It’s also going to be fucking huge, huh? How many people are ya planning on fitting in there?”

 

‘Just two, but you never know what’s gonna happen when you get married/’

 

“Ain’t that the truth.”

 

Looking down at his watch, Steve noticed that a lot more time had passed than he’d originally thought. It was 5:41, and they’d planned on heading out at 5:30. That was the moment that he wished that they had  more than one appointment a week. 

 

‘Looks like it’s time to go.’

 

“Oh shit, and we just got here, too. You sure?”

 

‘Yeah, I’m sure, I just checked. You can keep the sketch, okay? Do your architect-y thing maybe.’

 

Bucky threw an amused smile at him. There wasn’t any disappointment on his face, Steve told himself. He was just reading too much into it, like he always did.

 

“Sounds good! I’ll see ya next week, then. Make sure to tell me what day we’re gonna meet up!”

 

They both walked over to their vehicles, Bucky to his old little volkswagen bug, Steve to his well-loved motorcycle.

 

“Have a good night, Steve. Drive safe, alright?”

 

‘You too, Bucky.’

 

The car door shut, and both of their engines started. They parted ways, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts once more. You’d think that after it all, he’d be used to it, and yet his entire being was telling him to go back and talk more, be around someone else more. 

 

Going back to the apartment was not something he wanted to do. All he’d find there would be a lack of color, visually and emotionally. The only thing there was black and white and every shade of grey. He’d no longer be made of swirling colors, filled with life. The shades of emptiness would permeate his being once more. He should have known better than to think that today would last. Good things happened in the forest, Steve had decided. They just were unable to leave, he realized. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy comments are what help me reach my word count goals every day help me out y'all ;) ;)


	6. I Was Three Days On A Drunken Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGHHHHH IM SLOWING DOWN IN NANOWRIMO AGAINNNNN
> 
> Everything is so busy and I'm ready to fucking kill myself but I GOTTA FINISH THIS FUCKING THING I GOTTA

The further he drove, the less trees there were, less enchanting sights and smells, less of everything. 

 

As he made his way back into the city, hitting traffic and finding the people in their own little worlds. Though they were there, he felt no less alone. None of them did, they were all by themselves. An enormous city, filled chock-full of people, and they were all completely alone. It both saddened him and made him feel the slightest bit better about his situation. He might have been alone in many things, but at least everyone here was not alone in being alone.

Steve let out a small laugh at that thought. Someone in a car next to him raised their eyebrow at him, as if to ask him what the fuck he found so funny. Steve thought he could fuck right off.

 

All too soon, he had found a parking space and was at the front door, digging around in his pack for his house keys. 

 

Before he found them, the door opened by itself, making him jump. But it hadn’t opened by itself, Sharon was standing there, glaring at him. She pushed him into the apartment and locked the door behind her.

 

“Where the fuck have you been? You’ve been gone since I saw you at breakfast. You left me here alone, I had no idea what to do! I tried calling you and you didn’t fucking pick up. What the hell is the point of having a phone if you’re not going to actually use it, Steve?”

 

Stunned into silence, he simply stood there, trying to figure out what was happening. She’d told him she wouldn’t be home all day, hadn’t she? She’d told him not to wait up, and he’d been planning on doing just that. 

 

His answer, or lack thereof, was obviously not enough for her. She took a few clumsy steps forward, backing Steve into a corner. With her this close, he could smell the alcohol on her breath, see her eyes glassy and unfocused. 

 

He was scared. They’d had their arguments before, but Steve always steered clear of her when she’d been drinking. She was an angry drunk, from what he’d seen and heard. Sharon would get into fights, ripping and tearing at other girls, sometimes guys, usually for the stupidest goddamn reasons. Steve was surprised that he’d never had to bail her out of jail. 

 

“I asked you a fucking question, Rogers. Answer me, just answer me. You love me, answer me!!”

 

She was slurring her words. He moved out of the corner, giving himself more room to move

 

‘I was with the architect, remember? Planning your house? You told me you were staying out late, what happened?’

 

Relief flooded through him when she took a few steps back, her face going from furious to just confused. Steve tried to figure out how long it’d take him to get to his studio if he ran. She stopped for a second, and when she looked back up at him, contempt was clear on her face.

 

“Oh, so you’re disappointed that I’m here early, are you? What, were you bringing a girl home? A little lady that’s more your type? You like brunettes, right? Ones with pretty blue eyes.”

 

There was nowhere to go anymore, she had him up against the wall. He didn’t like where this was going, all he knew was that he just wanted to be anywhere but here.

 

“I’m not good enough for you anymore. I’m just a dumb fucking blonde. That’s what you think of me, that’s what you think EVERY TIME YOU LOOK AT ME. I see it when you look at me, I see it.

 

You want me to be good enough for you? Alright baby, I can do that for you.”

 

Yanking him down, she smashed their mouths together. He tried to push her away as her hands started wandering, pulling at his shirt and belt. She pulled away, looking at him with dark eyes.

 

“You want this, Steve. You want  me and you know it. Just let it happen, stop fighting me, baby.”

 

He wanted to throw up. She started trying to tug his pants down, fingers slipping into his jeans, and that was it. Steve shoved her away, knocking her on her ass. He never wanted to do that, never wanted to hurt her, never wanted any of this. Before he could even run, she’d gotten up, and the next thing he knew, there was a decorative urn flying towards him. It shattered as it hit the wall, the sound almost musical. 

 

The world was a blur by then, the entirety of it screaming and running, a door locking behind him, pounding and kicking. Earplugs weren’t needed, he could hear his blood pounding in his ears, everything around him beating like drums. 

 

Paint went across a canvas, blood red mixing with tears, or maybe blue paint. It was eyes, watching him, bleeding tears of fury and hatred, her eyes, drunken and glossed over. This wasn’t how she felt, he told himself. She loved him, she was just drunk, he’d just caught her at a bad time.

 

She loved him and he loved her, he  needed her. Life would slip away, fall to pieces like the broken urns and vases still being thrown at his door, tinkling and ringing as they hit the floor. 

 

Blinding hatred was all he saw in the eyes. Paint was spattered across his face, dripping onto the floor. The ceiling, how had it gotten on the ceiling? Hands shaking, the paints were closed, hands washed. Had he even used brushes? His hands were his brushes this time, he thought. His feelings could only make it onto the canvas through him, the brushes weren’t close enough, didn’t  feel enough to paint with them. 

 

Despite the wet paint smearing itself onto his face and being absorbed by his clothes, the floor was comfortable. The wood was sturdy and held him, it was stronger than him, wouldn’t fall apart like him. Steve never cried, his cheeks were wet because of the paint. Clear paint was dripping from his cheeks, his chest heaving only to breathe more deeply, of course. 

 

Nothing could stay happy for long, he’d learned that with Peggy, and for some reason he hadn’t learned his lesson. Today was happy, and though it was short, he should have known better. Tears, they were tears, he knew this, and they fell from his face, the floor dotted with small dark spots on the wood. 

 

He’d do anything for his mother back, for Peggy back. Nothing he did could ever bring them back, not even for a day. Even his memories of them had become fuzzy, his mind blocking them out for so long, trying to keep him from getting washed away in a sea of every emotion he’d ever kept inside for years since his mother died, the year since Peggy died. 

 

He couldn’t do anything but lay there, muffling his sobs, the roaring in his ears drowning out everything else around him.

 

It was a relief for him to wake in the morning and realize he’d slept without dreaming a single thing. For him, dreams had become a thing of nightmares, ironically enough. Memories of the previous night swallowed him up, dragging him under, trying to drown him. The eyes stared. Drops of paint had dried onto the canvas before dropping to the floor, making it all too realistic. Steve shook his head, the bad thoughts flying from his head like water off a wet dog. 

 

Tony had been asking him for new art lately, Steve wanted to get rid of this painting. He never liked keeping things he painted when he was hysterical. Strangely, those were always the ones that sold the fastest, for the largest amount of money. That would definitely make her happy.

 

The door was still locked, keeping him in, keeping him safe. This was a bubble of safety, nobody could harm him and nothing could hurt him. She was outside somewhere, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. 

 

The plan for the day was the same as every other day. He painted. This time, though, the paintings weren’t even registered by his brain. He had no idea what was being produced by his hands, didn’t really care. 

 

Everything was a blur, time wasn’t real. Nothing but what was in the room existed, everything else was a lie, a dream, a fantasy he once had. It was fuzzy in his mind, the only thing that gave him any clarity was the brush in his hand and the colors on the canvas before him. 

 

It was incredible that this was what had to happen for him to break out his old paints, the unused colors that stood out in the black and white room, red, yellow, orange and green. Steel blue was among them (familiar, beautiful, enchanting, calming, happy-making). 

 

Eyes were everywhere in his studio by the fifth day. It was his new ‘phase’, as Tony would call it. Eyes of all kinds, many of which were grey, with a blue shift. 

 

Those were the most beautiful. Others were made with haphazard brushstrokes and frantic splashes of color, but these? These had intricate details, nearly no brushes used. His hands were once more his painting tools, for these had an emotional connection. Only one day of these eyes, and yet they were the only thing keeping him sane for the time being.

 

Of course, Sharon kept trying to get him to talk to her. She’d beg and apologize and bargain and yell until her voice was raw and her lungs gave out. It was an accident, she said, she was drunk, didn’t know what she was doing, had had a bad day and he’d triggered her. 

 

He never bothered responding. His ears were deaf to everything at this point. Steve didn’t leave his studio for six and a half days, his stomach not bothering to protest, knowing he’d ignore that too. 

 

The thing that finally pierced the deafening silence was the obnoxiously loud ringing of his phone. He went to turn it off, most likely by throwing it across the room, hopefully against the wall to hear the satisfying crunch of the screen breaking. Before he could do so, his eye caught the name of the caller.

  
Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered not being an asshole and ending yh3 chapter somewhere else but thats the only good place for a chapter break for a good while so have FUN!!!!! 
> 
> Comments are helpful and are the reason I get off my ass to actually write


	7. I Was Burnin' Up A Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fucking behind in NaNoWriMo god I need to try to catch up lord help me

Nobody in the history of mankind had answered the phone faster than he did at that moment. Steve’s voice was hoarse, cracking from lack of use, vocal cords complaining. 

 

“Heya Stevie, how’re ya doin?”

 

His heart leaped at the nickname, warmth spreading through his entire body for the first time in a good long while. A smile spread across his face, a somewhat sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

 

‘I’m doing okay, Bucky. And you?’

 

“I’m doin pretty damn well, even better because we get to meet up today, right?”

 

Shit. What fucking day was it, did he know? One minute and twenty four seconds ago, he couldn’t have cared less, but it was now one minute and twenty five seconds later than it had been, and it had become an incredibly important piece of information.

 

They’d agreed for the next meeting to be six days after the last one, and apparently it was six days later. So, a Thursday. 

 

‘Yeah, yeah it was today. What time was it again? Fuck, what time is it right now?’

 

“Steve, are ya doin okay? You don’t sound like you’re too well right now.”

 

‘I’m fine, Buck. What time was it at?’

 

“It’s at three, like last time. It’s one thirty seven right now, are you sure you still want to do it?”

 

He couldn’t go without it. He needed to leave the apartment, get as far away from here as possible, stay away from here even longer. 

 

‘YES! I mean, yes, yeah I do. Do I just meet you at the property?’

 

“Hell no, it’s raining cats and dogs! Meet me at my office, yeah?”

 

Of course it was fucking raining, he thought as he peered out the window at the fat raindrops battering the buildings, not making dents but making their way down the walls. 

 

‘Alright, I’ll see you there.’

 

“See ya in a bit!”

 

The line went silent, and so did the room, once more.

 

All he remembered after that was relief that Sharon wasn’t home, making sure the studio was locked tight, and ending up on his bike with his pack in a waterproof bag, already halfway there. Soaked to the bone and confused, he looked around him, wondering when he’d gotten ready, contemplating whether or not he was probably not in the best shape to be driving.

 

Rain pelted Steve, who was riding with no helmet, no jacket, no nothing. His sole purpose at that moment was to get to the office to talk to someone, to talk to Bucky. To leave his world and create one outside of it. 

 

Nobody ever expected things to happen when they did, and Steve most definitely did not expect his bike to slip and slide and throw him over into the bushes because of a small rock on a wet road. He did not expect to hit his head, have half of his shirt and pants (as well as most of the skin) on his right side shaved off. He did not expect the sudden ringing in his ears or the fuzziness of the world immediately afterwards.

 

Everything and nothing hurt, but he could still move. Determination was a bitch, and his bike wasn’t wrecked yet. Under any other circumstances, he would have stayed down, called someone to come get him or help him. Probably 911. But his head was spinning and nothing made sense, so he dragged himself over to his bike, the rain washing away the blood from his wounds, the cold numbing any pain he had. If he hadn’t been in the state he was in, he never would have revved up his bike, never would have hopped onto it, and most definitely would never have driven the last few miles to Bucky’s office. 

 

And yet he did. 

 

It was a small building, cozy, with a nice atmosphere. He loved it already. It wasn’t the fanciest or splendorous thing, and yet, he thought, it seemed like exactly the sort of place that Bucky would like. 

 

Pushing the door open, he realized just how cold it must be outside for it to be so warm in the building although the thermostat read 65 degrees. Steve didn’t feel it despite his usual sensitivity to temperature. The receptionist didn’t seem to notice him, but when he went to take a step forward, he realized just how much water was dripping off of him. It was red, too, he didn’t know why. 

 

‘May I ask where J-James Barnes’ office is, Ma’am??’

 

A small woman with a name plaque reading ‘Renata’ looked up, expression switching from boredom to shock and worry in a split second as she looked him over.

 

“Oh my. Let me call him in, sweetheart.”

 

She had an accent. Steve wanted to hug her, she was just so adorable. When the hell was the last time he’d slept, he wondered? His mind was racing with nonsense, thoughts that would usually flash through your head slowly enough for you to register them, but left before you could do anything more but make a face once thinking it. The cold, the hurt was seeping into his body now that he’d had a while to stand and think. It was enough for him to start shivering. 

 

“Steve? Oh my god, what the hell happened?”

 

Music to his ears, healing his soul and filling his heart. All pain erased, warming his insides, turning him to mush. That voice gave him goosebumps, or maybe it was just the cold. Bucky was walking towards him, worry written all over his face, his eyes too. His eyes had to be happy, had Steve been the one to make them unhappy?  _ They aren’t unhappy _ , said his mind.  _ They’re worried, worried for you. _

 

Hands held his face, he leaned into them. It’d been so long, so long since he’d had any sort of affection shown to him, since anyone had even touched him. It wasn’t a warm hand, it was warmer than he was, but still cool, harder than a hand should be. 

 

“Fucking christ, what the hell happened to you? You’re bleeding, you’re freezing. Oh god, it feels like he bumped his head, Renata. What the hell do we do for that?”

He ghosted his fingers over the still-bleeding patches of missing skin, Steve tried not to wince, although he barely felt it. It probably should have sent a shock of pain through him, and it was slightly worrying that he didn’t.

 

“God, get your ass over here, we’re getting you cleaned up. Renata, could you please do me a huge favor and go get him some hot chocolate? Lava hot, if it’s available. Fuck, and a first aid kit if you can find one. Thank you I love you I’ll be in my office.”

 

There was a metal hand holding him up, around his waist on the left, careful not to hurt him. He needed to sleep, because there was a metal arm around his waist. Where was he? Was any of this real? Everything was spinning. He was pushed into the office, and he thought back to a week ago. There was a difference between Sharon and Bucky’s pushes. Hers felt awful and hateful, ready to rip into him. His was worried, benevolent, helpful. 

 

Steve sat down, thankfully on a plastic chair, because the damn thing was immediately wet. What kept going through his head was that it was freezing, he was freezing. A towel was draped over him, fluffy and warm, fuzzy like his thoughts. Someone giggled when it slowly turned red. He thought that maybe it was him.

 

“..eve..Steve, Steve, can you hear me?”

 

Reality had come back, or he had come back to reality. Bucky was lightly tapping the side of Steve’s face, trying to get him to come back.  _ I’m here _ , he thought.  _ It’s okay, I’ll be fine. _

 

‘Mhm’

 

You could see his entire body go lax with relief. His eyes were happier. He hoped the happier in his eyes was because of Steve. 

 

“How are you feeling? Fuck, we gotta get you fixed up right now, where the hell is the first aid kit? What the hell were you thinkin, Stevie?”

 

The door knocked, someone knocked on the door. Renata walked in, handed him a warm cup. Very very warm, he realized when he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. It burned like hell, both in his mouth, down his throat, in his stomach, but it was better than the cold. It spread from the inside out, warmth replacing some of the cold. The whole thing was gone before Bucky and Renata could blink. He held the empty cup out to her, still shivering, trying not to drop it 

 

‘Th-thank you so m-much.’

 

“Did you find the first aid kit?”

 

“No, I’m sorry Mister Barnes.”

 

Bucky cursed, kicking the leg of his desk.

“Thank you so much, Renata.”

 

She nodded, and the door closed again. Bucky was opening and closing drawers, mumbling something about his keys. 

 

‘I h-have another sketch f-for you’

 

“We can look at it later, yeah? Right now, would it be alright if I take ya back to my place to get ya some clothes?? We gotta patch you up, make sure you don’t bleed out, make sure you don’t got a concussion. God, Stevie, you look like shit, too. When was the last time you ate? Or fucking slept?”

 

‘W-week ago.’

 

“And what the hell happened to you? Why are ya all banged up???”

 

‘Motorcycle slipped and f-fell.’

 

Just like that, he was being helped back up and dragged out the door. Bucky gave no response, just kept walking. He didn’t fight it, it was too cold, the room was wobbling around, the pain starting to set in. Steve had to focus on not tripping over his own feet, which he did at one point, only to be caught and picked up. Bucky held him like you would cradle a cat, leaning most of Steve’s weight onto his left arm.

 

His arm was metal, it had a pretty red star on it. He liked it a lot. Steve’s fingers itched for a pencil and paper. It only got worse when the metal plates started moving, just begging to be drawn, to be put on a canvas and put where only he could see. But his hands were shaking too badly, eyes too unfocused, mind too jumbled to create anything but a deformed scribble.

 

The little navy blue volkswagen bug was adorable. It looked like a little beetle, and he supposed that’s why it was called a bug. Bucky used his jacket to shield him from the rain, which Steve found pointless, because he was already sopping wet, why bother to keep him from getting more wet? The rain could wash away the blood and clear his thoughts, right? Carefully, he was placed in the passenger seat of the car. Internally, he laughed.  _ I call shotgun!!! _ Steve thought that he should probably have slept at some point this last week. He should have worn his gear. He should not have kept driving.

 

“I have a blanket in the back, alright? Here, take it. Hang tight, I’ll crank the heat up, we’ll get to my place, fix you up, make sure you’re okay. Get you some dry clothes, put some food in ya. I might have some sleeping pills if ya need to sleep but can’t, you look like you need it. When was the last time you slept, Stevie??”

 

‘Last time I saw y-you’

 

Every time he thought Bucky couldn’t look any more worried, he was proven wrong.

 

“You’re a fuckin idiot, jesus christ. We’re gonna get you home. Try to sleep here.”

 

The door closed, and almost immediately afterwards the other door opened. The car came on, started moving. He had to close his eyes, everything had been moving before this, seeing it while in here made it worse. 

  
Steve wanted to go home, but really, where was home?? Did he even truly have one? Home was love and happiness, warmth and safety. It’d been a long time since he’d had that, and he suspected that it’d be even longer until he found that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve just can't catch a break
> 
> Comments help me keep catching up on this goddamn thing <3 <3


	8. Why, When My Time Comes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally catching up in NaNoWriMo, expect somewhat consistent updates!

Warmth began to fill the air surrounding him, the heater on the fritz. It was dark outside, charcoal grey clouds covering the usually bright blue skies. Jagged flashes of iridescent white lightning lit up the sky with every booming, echoing crash of thunder. 

 

They arrived much sooner than he’d thought they would, but it also could have been that Steve had been falling asleep in the car. He awoke to careful hands picking him back up, a sprinkling of rain gently hitting his face. The door that was suddenly in front of them (when had a door gotten in front of them?) was pushed open, and Bucky gingerly placed him on the old, tattered, but surprisingly comfortable couch. It looked like curtains you would see in your grandmother’s house. He liked it.

 

“Alright, stay right there and I’ll go get some shit to clean you up, then you’re gonna fucking sleep. Well, if ya wanna eat before that, that might be a good idea. I don’t know, goddammit. Do ya want anythin?”

 

The room spun more once he shook his head no, swirling enough that he couldn’t see Bucky very well, if at all. Steve didn’t like that and willed it to stop. His head refused to relent, but took pity on him just enough to slow down a bit.

 

Bucky went off into the other room, leaving him with his own thoughts.

 

The little apartment was nice, decorated simply. It wasn’t completely clean, some papers and clothes, the occasional cup, strewn across the floor and coffee table in the living room. A blank television screen stared back at him, a battered, bloodied man looking back at him with dark circles under his eyes.  _ Is that me? Am I really that bad?  _

 

“Yeah, you are that bad. What’d ya do to yourself, Steve? C’mere, I’ve got some shit that’s probably gonna hurt like a bitch, but judgin by...you, I don’t think you’ll mind all that much. Sit up, I can’t do it if you’re lyin down, dummy.”

 

Everything had become painful, so he was sure it’d hurt pretty badly. Still, he didn’t bother to correct him. It couldn’t be as bad as the searing pain on his side, his arm, his leg. His head was throbbing, just sitting up was a chore for him. Bucky helped him up, seeming to notice the difficulty he was having with that simple task. Through the fog in his mind, he felt embarrassment and annoyance for not being able to do it himself, for having to be helped to just sit up.

 

‘Y’know, I h-have another sketch for y-you’

 

“I know, Stevie. You told me. I’ll look at it when we’re done here, alright?”

 

Steve hissed as Bucky began to disinfect his wounds with careful hands. Lightning flashed outside, it felt almost as if it hit his nerves, the alcohol burning and stinging, his arm lighting up with pain at the same time as the lightning struck. 

 

‘Its n-not the same one from l-last week.’

 

“Well yeah, it’s a new sketch, right?”

 

He shook his head, not sure if he was trying to shake off the sting or say that no, it wasn’t that it was new, it was that it was different.

 

‘Yes no it’s a new sketch, a d-different house, it’s my h-house, mine.’

 

His side was on fire, all he could do was grit his teeth and tell himself it was going to be over soon. It wasn’t the first time he’d hurt like this, his whole childhood was made up of this, so why was it like this now? He’d forgotten this. Bucky finally finished up, putting the alcohol and hydrogen peroxide back in the first aid kit, switching it out with bandages and gauze.

 

“Hey, you’re gonna have to do me a favor and strip down for a bit, I’ve got some clothes for you, but we need to put some of these on to keep everything from rubbing up against anything. It’ll hurt less.”

 

Normally, he would have made a joke, but it was too gloomy, inside of him and outside in the rain. His clothes went in the trash, too torn up and bloodied to be of any use to him ever again. Unfortunately for both of them, Steve’s boxers were no longer held together by any fabric on the right side, making him scramble to hold them up as he carefully inched his tattered pants down his legs, trying not to brush against any painful areas. 

 

“Ya know, I’d help you out of those, but I should probably wait until at least the second date, huh?”

 

It had been freezing seconds ago, he had felt freezing, yet it was beginning to feel a bit too warm in here, cheeks flushing seven different shades of red, a small grin gracing his face. Bucky looked sheepish, expectant, happy, as if him smiling caused him joy.

 

“There’s that smile. Let’s go sit back down, get you comfy over here.”

 

The room was cozy, he’d mostly stopped shivering, teeth no longer chattering, head feeling less cloudy, less floaty. 

 

‘Buck?’

 

His face lit up, a quiet smile spreading across his face.

 

“Yeah??”

 

‘Can I have an aspirin, do you think?’

 

He nodded, going to grab some.

 

“Here ya are.”

 

Silently, he began to wrap Steve’s cuts, to tape gauze onto his side as gently as humanly possible, not wanting to hurt him. 

 

“So, I’m gonna ask ya a few questions. It’s kinda expected based on…..this, I guess.”

 

‘Okay. That’s fair.’

 

The scissors snipped off another piece of gauze, he ripped off some more medical tape and placed it over Steve’s hip. Steve couldn’t stop staring at his hand, the plates in it adjusting themselves every time he moved. He wondered how he had feeling in that arm. 

 

“What the fuck happened?”

 

How did he answer that? What was he supposed to say?? He was so tired, his filter was shot, if he spoke now, everything would come flooding from his mouth, everything would come right out and he would be naked and empty, emptier than he was now, if that was possible. He’d make Sharon look bad, when she hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been the one that provoked her, that’s why she reacted so badly

 

Everything she’d done had been warranted, he’d been the one that started shit. Steve should have called her, should have told her where he was. She knew, but it was always good to double check, he should have double checked. He was too busy talking to Bucky, too busy being happy for a while, too busy being sunshine and light for a few hours.

 

Steve snapped out of it, only to find Bucky looking over at him, worry and sadness in his eyes once more. Had he said something out loud? Why couldn’t he remember? 

 

“You’re gonna spend the night here, I’ve got you some sweats to help warm you up some more.”

 

They were huge, at least twice Bucky’s size. It looked like they’d even be big on Steve, who was both taller and bigger than Bucky. Sliding into them, he realized just how big they were. The hoodie was big enough for him to have what Peggy used to call ‘sweater paws’. She would have killed to see him wearing this. Photos would have been taken, she would have begged him to draw himself like that. They would have ended up dressing up like that together and cuddling up to each other, just because she liked having him hug her and wrap her up in his arms. He liked that too.

 

“You comfy?”

 

Tears were in his eyes again, he noticed. Lately he’d been thinking of Peggy far too often, he really wished it would stop. 

 

It was probably due to him finding Bucky again. Every time he looked at Steve with those expectant, excited eyes, he was back in college, sitting next to her while eating lunch, Bucky occasionally coming over to join them. He’d always made sure Steve stayed in the conversation, even if he and Peggy were talking about a project Steve knew nothing about. It had been wonderful.

 

Now, his voice cracked when he spoke. It was broken, cracking, almost shattered, just like the rest of him. How was it that this never happened when he was at the apartment. He was just numb whenever he walked into that place. Maybe it was that here, someone cared. Here, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t painting alone in a locked room while his wife to be was passed out on the couch in the living room, or throwing things into walls just to hear them break. Maybe she’d throw him into the wall too. Would he really break then? Or would he just stay the way he was, unable to break any more than he already had?

 

‘Yes, I’m comfortable. Thanks, Bucky.’

 

“Here, take this.”

 

‘What is it?’

 

He smiled at Steve, handing him a glass of water. Washing the pill down with a few sips of it, he noticed that it was nice and cool. It was good that it didn’t chill him to the bone, he loved cold water. Warm and hot water was gross.

 

“It’ll help you sleep.”

 

‘Okay. Thank you.’

 

He didn’t hear the response, if there even was one. The couch was extremely comfortable, lying down caused him to almost fall asleep on the spot. His vision faded in and out of focus, but he did feel someone drape a blanket over him, brush his hair out of his face. He saw someone looking at him with tender, almost affectionate eyes, an almost sad smile. All he saw from there was darkness, then absolutely nothing.

 

Peggy was in his dreams. This time, there was no feeling of guilt, she didn’t die right off the bat. He didn’t have to watch her get shot and bleed out before him. She took Steve’s charcoal dirtied hand in her small and dainty one, pulling him gently along. Trees were everywhere, green grass underfoot, they weren’t wearing shoes. The floor was cool and soft, and soon, they were running into the forest. It was his forest, he realized. Fairies flitted from one branch to another, and it was beautiful. Despite it all, the only thing he was focused on was her. 

 

She wouldn’t look him straight in the eye, but god, her laughter rang out, clear as a bell, cleansing his entire being. It’d been so long since he’d heard that. He had to see her face, had to look into her eyes. Digging his heels into the ground, he stopped them both, pulling her in for a hug, for one last kiss. 

 

“We have to go, Steve. We have to go meet him, he’s waiting!”

 

Who did they have to meet? Why now, of all times? He wanted to be with her, just her. Steve just wanted to be with her for a little while, a few precious moments She continued dragging him along, leaving his confusion behind him. 

They reached a little clearing, only to find a small picnic laid out for them already. His confusion had apparently caught back up with him, because it hit him hard.

 

‘Pegs, who are we waiting for?? Let's go somewhere else, yeah?’

 

She shook her head profusely.

 

“No, Steve. We have to wait right here.”

 

‘Peggy…’

 

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Steve was suddenly ready to jump forward and attack whatever it was to protect her. 

 

He stepped back in surprise when none other than Bucky stepped out of the forest, a grin on his face the second he laid eyes on Steve.

 

“Well damn, you gonna kick my ass before we can have lunch?”

 

Untensing, he went to sit next to Peggy. The other man followed suit. His white t shirt showed off his arms, namely, his left arm. It was fuzzy, undefined, he couldn’t quite make out the details. Where was he? Was this his reality, or had he simply been living in a dream? It had to be a figment of his imagination, Peggy was no longer here with him. She still wouldn’t look at him, neither of them would. They both sat there chatting and catching up while he sat and stared like an idiot. 

 

‘Why are we here?’

 

No response was given, it was as if he wasn’t there. 

 

‘Pegs? What’s going on?? Bucky? Please answer me.’

 

They kept their little conversation going, oblivious to the world around them, if it really was the world. Steve didn’t know what was what right now, he was just confused. Instead of reaching out to peggy, his hand ended up going to tap Bucky on the shoulder in another attempt to get his attention. 

 

He flinched, causing Steve to jerk his hand back. He looked straight into Steve’s eyes, and his blood iced over.

 

It wasn’t him, it wasn’t his eyes. It wasn’t grey clouds with a bit of blue peeking through this time, not at all. He stared right through Steve with icy blue, hate filled eyes. His heart had stopped, voice gone, no thoughts going through his head, just dread and terror. Funny how he could be this scared of the woman he was marrying in a few months, wasn’t it?

 

Practically throwing himself backwards, he knocked into Peggy, who’d finally met his eyes. Two pairs of the same eyes were staring him down, faces blank, for they didn’t need to show any emotion, it was all shown clearly in their menacing glare. He felt small, miniscule, shrinking with every second that passed. The only thing going through his mind was a scream, a cry for help, begging someone to take him away from here.

 

They were walking towards him now, making Steve keep walking backwards, and before he knew it, the scenery changed. The apartment was surrounding him, a wall now behind him. Not just a wall, he realized, a corner, he was cornered again. 

 

‘Help. Please help, please don’t do this.’

  
His pleas fell upon deaf ears. Nowhere to go, he sat. He slid down the wall, sat, and waited. Steve had never been one to cry, at least, not often, but tears were burning in his eyes. Willing them to stay where they were, he shut his eyes, allowing him the safety of darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus christ this kid needs a hug really badly
> 
> Comments make me happy and legitimately give me a reason to keep writing!!!


	9. I Woke With His Walls Around Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long-ass chapter, my dudes. I mean, I'm not sorry about it in the slightest, but it's twice as long as the other chapters I usually post. Ah well, I'm tryna keep the story goin, so it's whatever. Enjoy!!

Someone was shaking him, not terribly hard or with ill intent. His eyes stayed closed, unwilling to see what was right in front of him.

 

“Steve! Wake up, come on. Wake up!”

 

_ Bucky. _

 

“Come on Stevie, come back to me. Wake up.”

 

This was real, wasn’t it? Shaking himself awake, a sharp pain shot through his arm and side and leg and everything just everything on the right it all hurt.

 

‘Fuck.’

 

Stormy eyes that almost, just almost matched with the sky outside looked down at him. This was real, he decided. Bucky was here and he was okay, so was Steve. If he could be hurting, he was definitely awake.

 

“You were whimpering, ya sounded like you were havin a bitch of a nightmare. You okay?”

 

His mind was clearer than it’d been earlier. Based on the sky outside, he’d slept for an hour or so, which didn’t explain how much more rested he felt. 

 

‘I’m not sure. How long have I been out? What time is it?’

 

“You’ve been out since yesterday, and then some. It’s like seven. Do ya want something to eat? Wait. That’s no longer a question, you need food. What do ya want to eat? Answer wisely and quickly or you’re gonna get whatever I think you should be eating.”

 

Yesterday? He’d slept for over 24 hours? His brain couldn’t quite process this. Usually he could get maybe 4 hours of sleep, 5 if he was lucky. Sleeping was not his forte, it hadn’t been for a good while. Apparently his body had decided to make up for every night he’d stayed awake this past week. His head still hurt, much less than before, but still painful. There was definitely a bump from him taking a headfirst dive into the side of the road. He was lucky that he didn’t have a concussion, or worse.

 

His thoughts had cleared up, finally able to form cohesive sentences and stay relatively focused. There was no more nonsense than there usually was, thankfully. 

 

The glass of water from the previous night still sat on the coffee table, and only when he reached for it did he realize just how much fucking pain his side was in. He groaned painfully, making a mental note to check it out in the mirror later. If he was being honest with himself, he really didn’t want to see the product of his stupidity. Steve was sure that it was going to scar up horribly, even without seeing it, he knew that much. He’d shaved off all the goddamn skin, of course it would scar. He was lucky that he’d only grazed his cheek, if he hadn’t kept his head up as much as possible he might have been able to star in the next Batman movie as Two-Face.

 

“Are ya still with me?”

 

Jerking back out of his mind, he returned to the house with Bucky. He was walking towards Steve with a bowl of soup, what looked like ramen. Mouth watering, it took every ounce of self control he had left not to snatch the plate out of Bucky’s hands and suck down every last drop of the soup, not even caring what the temperature was. Bucky seemed to notice his expression and the sound of his stomach yelling at him to hand over the fucking food, laughing silently.

 

“I knew you’d be hungry. That’s what ya fuckin get for not eating for a week. You do realize that the body needs food for a reason, yeah? It needs to eat so that you can **_keep fucking functioning._ ** ”

 

Steve made grabby hands like a damned five year old, and before he knew it, the bowl was already half empty.

 

“You’re gonna have seconds, by the way. Ya have no choice. This ain’t no bitch-ass ramen either. I make this shit myself. It’s why it’s so damn good.”

 

‘It’s really really good. Do you think I could please have some more?”

 

“Aww, you’re too kind. I already said you’re gettin more, ya don’t have to ask me. Here ya are, try not to hurt yourself.”

 

He ended up eating three and a half plates of it, and by the end he was ready to pass right back out. Bucky looked proud as hell, really happy too.

 

‘Thank you so much, that was delicious.’

 

Bucky had a never ending supply of extraordinarily bright smiles that always warmed him inside and out, head to toe. Steve had never seen someone this happy over a compliment on their food.

 

“You’re welcome!! I’m really glad you liked it. Are you full, or do ya want another plate, Stevie?”

 

‘Oh god I’d totally have another one if I didn’t feel like I’m about to explode. Thank you so much for the offer, though’

 

“No problem!”

 

It was late, about seven thirty or eight. The rain had stopped for now, enough that he could drive back to the apartment.

 

‘Thank you for your hospitality, Buck. Is there any chance you could drive me back to your office so I can grab my motorcycle? I should be heading back now.’

 

Bucky scoffed and shot him a look that just screamed  _ Yeah, that’s totally going to fucking happen. _

 

“Are you fuckin crazy? It’s already gettin dark, you don’t have any gear or a helmet. Not to mention that it’s slippery out. On top of it all, you hit your goddamn head yesterday, and you’re all torn up. No way I’m lettin ya go out in that” 

 

‘I’m fine, I swear. It’s only a half hour away, maybe an hour with traffic. I can drive just fine like this.’

 

“Not happenin, sweetcheeks. You’re still exhausted and need at least another night of rest before goin anywhere. And I ain’t even gonna get into why I don’t want ya goin back with your absolutely  _ fantastic _ fiancee when you’re like  _ this. _ When you do go back, it’s gonna be ‘cause I drove ya there.”

 

Steve stood in an attempt to show him that he was fine, he could go home just fine, nothing would happen. Well, it failed miserably, seeing as when he tried to stand, pain shot through his leg, enough that he winced and gritted his teeth, immediately sitting back down. Bucky gave him a pointed look, as if to say  _ Told ya so. _

 

“Well, looks to me like you’re stuck with my dumb ass for another day or so, huh?”

 

‘Sure does.’

 

“Damn, don’t sound too excited there, you might hurt yourself some more!”

 

‘I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m just kicking myself for pulling this shit. Sharon’s going to fucking flip when she sees this.’

 

His eyes went dark, staring down at the floor, glaring almost. Steve wasn’t sure why exactly, but he hoped it wasn’t something he’d done.

 

“Tell me about her?”

 

It wasn’t what he’d expected him to say, but it was better than nothing, right?

 

‘Yeah, why not?

 

She’s blonde, got blue eyes, real pretty. Before she got laid off, she was a nurse.’

 

Bucky frowned.

 

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant, I thought maybe you’d tell me what she’s like. How’d you guys meet?”

 

This was where things got complicated. This was where guilt rushed through his veins, contaminating his very being. Where he could almost physically feel Peggy looking at him, eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. Who marries the sister of their dead love of their life? Soon, he would, apparently. This was where Bucky either hated him or hated him for being a horrible, despicable, disgusting person.

 

‘I met her at Peggy’s funeral.’

 

His eyebrows raised into his hairline, surprise written all over his face.

 

‘I know. It gets worse, too. Sharon is...Peggy’s older sister.’

 

“Wait, hold it right there. Her sister?”

 

Steve winced, knowing exactly what was coming.

 

“Peggy didn’t have a sister. She was an only child, wasn’t she?”

 

‘Well, Sharon had some shit go down with her and her parents, so they kind of disowned her, I guess.’

 

Bucky didn’t look convinced in the slightest. 

 

“Stevie, my bullshit detector is goin nuts right now. Have ya talked to Pegs’ parents about it? Are they invited to the wedding when it happens?”

 

‘Sharon doesn’t want them there to prevent problems starting at her wedding. It’s not a big deal, really. She’s her sister.’

 

“I’m two thousand percent sure that Peggy would have told you if she had a sister, aren’t you? You two never hid a single thing from each other. Why the fuck would she keep something this big to herself?”

 

His mind was spinning, not sure what was happening or what was being said. Sharon was Peggy’s sister, he knew that much. She wouldn’t lie to him, she loved him. Why would she lie to him? 

 

‘It was probably just a really touchy subject for her. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either.’

 

“I mean, if it was with you, I’d want to talk about it.”

 

‘Huh?’

 

“Wait shit not like that, I meant if I was Peggy and it was with you. Not if you and I were together or anything like that. You know what I’m talking about, right? I’m not saying I wouldn’t talk to ya about something touchy if the right time came up but like not like-”

 

Steve held up a finger to stop him, grinning. Bucky’s face was red, nervous and embarrassed.

 

‘It’s okay, Buck, I got it. You’re okay.’

 

“Okay, alright, sorry about that.”

 

‘Not a problem at all.’

 

“Anyway. Besides that, what’s she actually like?”

 

He went to speak, but stopped, sitting there with his mouth half open to begin speaking. There was nothing coming to mind. He had no idea what she was actually like, at least, he didn’t know what good qualities she had. She was entitled and whiny, quick to anger, she scared him, and always had to get her way if he wanted to prevent her from making his life miserable.

 

‘...Uh, she’s...very ambitious? Friendly, too, she has a lot of friends. There’s a bunch more, my head’s just feeling kind of off right now.’

 

“How does she treat ya?”

 

These questions were not ones he could answer honestly. Nobody would understand their relationship. She loved him, he just tended to provoke her and get in her way. Never had she hit him, she may have tried, ut it was always out of love. She really did adore him, they were getting married, so she had to, right?

 

‘Sharon is very kind, it’s a miracle that she’s able to put up with my shit. I’m not really the best person to be with. My studio is my best friend, and I tend to block people out when inspiration hits. She gets it and just leaves it alone. She’s very good to me.’

 

Bucky pursed his lips, looking as if he were considering whether or not he should speak. He kind of hoped that he did say what he was thinking, Steve wanted to know. His thoughts and opinions had always mattered to Steve, he was a very intuitive person and always seemed to know what to say. Maybe this time he’d say something that’d save him, tell him what was wrong, what to do to fix it all, if it even needed fixing. 

 

“She treats you well?”

 

‘Yes she does.’

 

“Stevie….last night you were begging her to stop hurting you.”

 

His mouth went dry, any response he might have had died in his throat. Sitting there, all he could do was stare like a deer in headlights. Had he been begging? She’d never laid a finger on him, never. 

 

That’s what he told himself. All he could do was block out the memories of his face stinging, a hand shaped red mark marring his cheek, bruises on his arm, his cheek. Beer bottles, wine glasses, pots and bowls and plates thrown at his chest, legs, face. It never happened. She had always been good to him.

 

‘She’s good to me, Bucky.’

 

He seemed to get the message, not pressing any further, but the look of worry on his face stayed glued in place. The past two days had just been Steve worrying him, hadn’t it? Every time he thought it was going to be fine, Steve managed to slap that worried expression right back onto Bucky’s face. He really should leave, if just to keep from causing more worry. 

 

Steve stood up with no warning, and began walking towards the door. It was time to leave, to keep from hurting anyone but himself. This was why he stayed alone, he was the only one who needed to know and feel these things. 

 

“Whoa wait, what the hell? Where the fuck do ya think you’re goin?”

 

‘I’m going to go home, I’m overstaying my welcome. Thank you for letting me stay here, yeah? I’ll call you later to set up another appointment.’

 

“Oh fuck no, you ain’t walkin out that goddamn door. Get your ass back on the couch before I kick it.”

 

He kept walking until Bucky jumped in front of him, shorter but at the moment, much angrier and determined. 

 

“You cannot go out when it’s like this. Shit happens when it’s rainy and slippery, especially when it’s dark and your head isn’t in the right place.” 

 

‘Buck, I told you I’ll be fine.’

 

“Steve, you dumbass, I ain’t gonna let you end up like me.”

 

Bucky yanked up his left sleeve, revealing the metal arm he thought he had imagined. As he clenched and unclenched his fist, it whirred, each individual plate adjusting itself just right so as to allow movement akin to that of a human arm.

 

“This is how I got this thing, alright? On a rainy day, my head all fucked up and sad, I didn’t give a damn what happened to me. Trust me when I say you start giving a damn real fuckin quick once you lose your arm. Please come back and sit down, you shouldn’t be up on your leg, ya gotta let it heal.”

 

Shocked, he did just that. The couch was comfortable as ever, although the atmosphere had changed. They were both slightly on edge, and Bucky just looked sad with a dash of regret and anger. His filter had disappeared along with his common sense, he found. This was not always a good thing, or rather, it was not a good thing in general. You need both your filter and common sense. 

 

‘You didn’t have that the last time I saw you. What happened, Buck?’

 

He let out a breathy laugh, going to sit on the coffee table so as to face Steve as he spoke. Bucky held his arm out to him, with no idea how to react, Steve simply stared at him in confusion. 

 

“It’s just an arm. You can touch it if ya want. When you were all fucked up, you kept messin around with it. Kept talkin bout how ya wanted to draw it. If ya wanna do that, you can, I don’t mind. I was a model for one of the art classes, remember?”

 

‘That’s right, you have no idea how surprised I was when I walked into the classroom late and looked up, only to see you there, posing naked for the class. Jesus, you gave me this cheeky-ass grin before getting yelled at by the teacher to quit fidgeting.’

 

“You’ve got a good memory, don’t ya? I was the model because I needed a little bit of extra cash to help pay for college. Student loans are a bitch. This thing helped pay for the rest of it, though. I almost thanked the guy that ran into me for that. It’s part of the reason why I’ve got this place.”

 

‘So, like I said, what happened?’

 

“Fuck, that’s right. Sorry, I got a bit off topic there. 

 

You and Pegs graduated a year before me, remember? I don’t think I saw ya after that.”

 

‘Yeah, I missed you at the funeral. Did you go? I don’t remember seeing you there.’

 

“I’m gettin to that, hold up a bit.

 

I found out through a friend, actually. She was one of my best friends and nobody bothered to tell me until some chick I knew asked me how I managed to stay so cheerful even after Peggy died. God, you have no idea how hard I laughed. I honest to god thought they were playin me. She just sat there, lookin confused as all hell, but I just kept laughing, waitin for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I had to tell her that she was real fuckin funny, but to not joke around with that kinda shit. 

 

She looked so sad, just said ‘No one told you?’ and hugged me. I got angry, asked her what the fuck she was talking about. Told me the whole thing. I had no idea what to do, Stevie. All I did was hop on that motorcycle I used to have, it was kinda like yours. I hopped up on that bike and drove home, got drunk as hell. 

 

The day was so gloomy, just like yesterday and today. They’re always the worst days to go drivin around. I waited until I was mostly sober, because I’m not a  _ complete _ dumbass. Still stupid though. 

 

It started raining about halfway through my drive, I was coming out here. To your land, actually. I used to go there all the time before you bought it. Anyway, I was driving, and before I knew it, a car blindsided me on my left. Completely shattered every goddamn bone in my left arm. Fucked up my leg real bad too, but they fixed that up, thankfully.”

 

‘Oh my god, Bucky…’

 

“Hold up, I ain’t done yet.

 

This arm? It’s some weird-ass prototype, I wasn’t even supposed to get it. Some fuckin german scientist doctor got his hands on me, hacked my arm off and put this damn thing on. Occasionally I’ll hear someone tell me that maybe they could have saved my flesh and blood arm, but I’m not too sure about that. With this one, at least I don’t feel the constant pain I might have felt if they’d have put my bones back together. It’d be like Humpty Dumpty. Ya can’t put him back together again without fucking him up, he’ll never be the same.

 

Don’t get me wrong, fuck that doctor for doin that shit without me knowing he would, but I’m real thankful that it’s such a great arm. I can feel stuff, I can move it just as well as my other arm, maybe better. It’s strong as hell, too. I’m great at heavy lifting because of this thing. It’s almost indestructible.”

 

Steve had no words. How the fuck do you respond to something like that? All he could do was open his mouth to try and say something, then close it because it wasn’t right for the situation, then open it once more, and close it again. Rinse and repeat.

 

“Ya don’t have to say anythin to that, by the way. I’m just tellin ya why I don’t want your dumb ass goin out in this weather. It’s not good and you might end up with a metal arm on your right side instead of the left.”

 

He had turned into a joke of sorts, laughing and nudging Steve to try and get a good reaction out of him. His eager face coaxed a laugh out of him. Bucky looked accomplished entirely due to getting a laugh out of him. Steve felt accomplished entirely due to getting to hear Bucky’s story. He felt like they knew each other better after all of this.

 

“Hey, ya know what I just remembered?”

 

‘What is it??’

 

Bucky leaned back a bit, using his arms to prop him up.

 

“You, me, and Pegs planned to go see a movie one time, I don’t remember which one it was, but I do know that we never got to go.”

 

‘Oh, that’s right! I don’t know exactly what it was, but I remember.’

 

“What I’m sayin is that you owe me a movie, Steve Rogers.”

 

‘Whaaat??? No I do not!! If anything, you owe ME a movie!!’

 

Bucky scoffed, pouting loudly. Steve hadn’t known that it was possible to pout loudly, but today was the day that he’d been proved wrong.  _ Well, you learn something new every day _ , he thought.

 

‘Alright, alright, fine. What movie do you want to watch, then?’

 

Every time Bucky’s face lit up, it felt the same way it had the first time. His heart lept up into his throat, doing a little happy dance. That expression should be there constantly, he deserved to be happy constantly. He didn’t think that anyone deserved it more than Bucky did. 

 

“Guess what movie!!! Just guess which one!! You can do it, Stevie, at least I think you can!”

 

‘Fuck, I have no idea. Help me out here?’

 

“Aww come on. I had faith in ya, and you failed me…”

 

Bucky struck a dramatic pose, looking like he was absolutely devastated by his answer. He recuperated quickly, though, and bounced over to a shelf holding dozens of movies. He looked through it for a few seconds, then made a triumphant little noise, whipping out a movie and holding it up for Steve to see.

 

‘Manchurian Candidate?’

 

“Yeah!!! It’s my favorite movie. Fuckin Denzel Washington, dude. He’s an eight out of ten honestly.”

 

‘I’ve never seen it, actually.’

 

It was as if he’d spit on someone’s grave. Bucky looked horrified, absolutely appalled by this statement.

 

“What the fuck do you mean, you’ve never seen it?! Jesus christ, Steve, I know you’re straight as a goddamn arrow, but everyone’s a little gay for Denzel Washington. **_EVERYONE!!_ ** ”

 

‘Well, I’m straight as a tire, and I definitely agree that I’m gay for him, I’ve just never gotten around to seeing it. I’m definitely excited to see it with you now, though!’

 

Bucky looked very confused. In Steve’s eyes, it looked like a confused puppy, head tilted, with invisible question marks appearing above his head. 

 

“As a tire? What the fuck? I thought you were straight??”

 

‘Nah, I’ve just had better luck with females apparently. Or rather, better luck with the Carter girls. They’re the only two people I’ve been with.’

 

He looked absolutely dumbfounded. Not in a bad way, in a slightly excited and hopeful way. Steve wondered why.

 

“Huh. Okay. Anyway, let’s fucking get your ass educated on this goddamn movie.”

 

After putting the movie in, Bucky bounced over to the couch, sitting right next to him. Steve noted that he was wearing sweats similar to his. The only difference between the two was that while Steve was swimming in his, Bucky seemed to be drowning in them. They were at least three times bigger than he was, and it took sweater paws to a whole new level. It seemed like a Jenny Craig ad, except Bucky would have had to have lost at least four inches of height as well. He was using them as a blanket, burrowed into them, looking more like a kitten than a puppy right now. He was curled up into a little ball in the corner of the couch, excitedly waiting for the movie to begin playing. Steve noticed that he was watching Bucky more than he was watching the screen, and as soon as he did, he turned back to the television, trying to get himself not to turn back to memorize every detail of the other man at this very moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!! The comments and feedback I'm getting on this are what keeps me going!!


	10. Nothin' In His Room But An Empty Crib

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just making these chapters longer because I'm running out of lyrics to use as the chapter names lol kill me

A quick thought occurred to him.

 

‘Hey, did I ever bring in my sketchbook and shit?’ 

 

“Oh yeah, you did. Sorry, I almost forgot. It’s over there on the table!”

 

Getting up, he realized very quickly that walking was out of the option. He had no idea how he’d gotten up earlier, but right now, putting weight on his leg hurt way more than it was supposed to. While he attempted not to yelp in pain, he failed, causing Bucky to be on his feet in a flash, setting him right back down. Steel blue eyes scanned his whole body, 

 

“Where does it hurt?”

 

‘My calf hurts like hell, I can’t really put weight on it.’

 

God, all he ever seemed to do was make Bucky worry for him. That’s all Steve was good for, apparently.

 

“Does it feel like a bruise?? I’m gonna go ahead and say no, ‘cause I’ve gotten bruises like that on my leg before and I could still walk despite it.”

 

‘It doesn’t feel like a bruise. I almost wish it did.’

 

“Hmm. If it doesn’t feel better by tomorrow when ya wake up, I’m draggin your ass down to the hospital whether you like it or not. I probably shoulda done that yesterday, too. You might need some stitches.”

 

The blood drained from his face in less than a second. There were very very few things Steve hated more than hospitals. Most of his childhood had been spent being carted in and out of them, sometimes in an ambulance, horn blaring, the sound as red and bright as the flashing lights on the roof. Other times, it was in their beaten up old car, him strapped in the back seat, falling in and out of consciousness while his mother drove like a madwoman, promising him he’d be okay.

 

Hospitals meant getting carted around in gurneys, it meant getting shots of who knows what and downing rainbows of pills. He’d never gotten stitches, but he’d heard people getting them, and he’d never forget their screaming and crying. Steve usually had a relatively high pain tolerance, so the fact that everything was hurting so badly these past two days went to show just how badly he’d gotten fucked up. He knew he needed medical attention, but he would rather die than go to the hospital. To be fair, having Bucky there would make it a hell of a lot more bearable, but there was no guarantee he’d stay to get him through it all. He could just decide to sit in the waiting room, and Steve wouldn’t blame him one single bit. 

 

It wasn’t even that needles hurt, the thing that put him so on edge when it came to them was the sight of them. He hated seeing them disappear into his skin, it never failed to make his skin crawl. 

 

‘Please don’t make me go.’

 

Bucky sighed, looking down at him sympathetically.

 

“Listen, I ain't gonna sugarcoat this. If you need medical attention, I really don’t give a damn whether or not ya wanna go. You’re gonna go either way if your leg still feels like this tomorrow, I’m sorry.”

 

Steve’s entire being was panic. He couldn't go back there. 

 

‘My leg is going to be fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I promise. It’ll be okay in a few days.’

 

“Darlin, you can’t even fuckin walk right now. And like I said, you might need stitches. We can’t risk any of those huge-ass gashes getting infected. I know for a fact that if I drop ya off back at your apartment without takin ya anywhere, you ain’t goin to the doctor even if you need it real bad. Hell, I don’t even think you’d redress your cuts. I’m gonna fuckin take you. I’m sorry, okay? I just wanna see you happy and healthy, Stevie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 

His heart beat a little faster. He didn’t want to go, but doing it would take some of the worry off of Bucky’s shoulders, wouldn’t it? There’d be relief and maybe even happiness. Sunshine would fill the room, and that right there was all that Steve had ever wanted. 

 

‘I’m scared, Buck. I can’t go back there again, I can’t’

 

Bucky put a sweater-clad hand on Steve’s knee, comforting and warm.  _ Please keep it there _ , he thought.  _ I need it. _

 

“I’ll go with ya, alright? I won’t let ya go there all by yourself, would that make ya feel any better?”

 

He nodded profusely, because god yes it would make him feel better about it. Steve needed him there, as childish as it seemed. 

 

‘Yeah, yeah it would. That would be perfect thank you so much. I’m sorry, mainly for being such a little bitch, but all I’ve been causing you lately is trouble.’

 

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, as if asking Steve if he was fucking kidding. 

 

He’d noticed that just being here, the movie playing in the background, talking to Bucky, who insisted on cheering him up with his quirks and jokes. He was so animated that Steve couldn’t help but smile almost constantly. Although he was in pain, he was a lot happier than he probably should have been in this situation. Getting in the crash was definitely not something that was pleasant, but the fact that he’d managed to end up here and get to know Bucky better somehow almost made it worth it.

 

“You keep sayin that, like it’s inconvenient that you’re here with me.”

 

He plopped back down on the couch next to Steve, blue eyes looking over at him, a mix of emotions he couldn’t exactly make out swirling and swaying in them. 

 

“It’s real nice havin ya here. I mean, I’d rather you not be all fucked up like this, but I’m still havin fun with you here.

 

We’re watchin a cool movie and tradin sob stories and you’re about to start drawin, I think. I hope you’re havin a good time too, but you ain’t puttin me out at all, Stevie.” 

 

His heart exploded. Of course he was enjoying himself, probably too much for his own good, but how could he dislike this? 

 

‘I am having fun, I promise. I just don’t like the fact that you have to be doing basically everything for me.’

 

“Ya know what you could do for me, as a way to kinda pay me back for it all? Promise me you’ll never pull that kind of dumb shit ever again. That’s all I need from ya.”

 

‘Okay. I can do that.’

 

Bucky ruffled his hair, warming him head to toe, all the colors from the week prior filling him once more. 

 

“Perfect. Now lemme go get ya your artsy shit, I’ll bring along some stuff to change out your bandages, alright?”

 

He had been asking a rhetorical question, he realized, as Bucky walked into another room. It occurred to him that he should pause the movie, seeing as it was his friend’s favorite.  _ His friend.  _ There was no reason for that thought to make him as happy as it did, but of course, that didn’t stop it from doing so.

 

Steve had been yearning to sketch out his  _ friend _ for over a week, the only issue being that he never seemed to be around a pencil, pen, charcoal or paper, canvas, ANYTHING whenever he and Bucky were together. It was extremely aggravating to him, but at the moment, he was extremely excited by the fact that he would finally get to work on that. 

 

“Get up, lazy-ass. I gotta redress your side.”

 

Bucky looked over at the television, then back at Steve with a pleased grin.

 

“You paused it for me? Aww, thanks, Stevie.”

 

‘Hey, do you think that when you take the gauze and everything off, you’d help me over to a mirror? I’d like to see just how badly I fucked myself up. It hurts like a bitch, so my curious ass is hell bent on seeing how much damage the floor did.’

 

“Yeah, of course I could! Anything to show ya just how fuckin stupid that shit you pulled was!”

 

A waterproof bag was set down on the couch right next to him, filled with his sketchbooks and drawing utensils.

 

“Here ya are. I’m gonna help ya into the room right now before I start doin anything so ya won’t have to go there without any clothes. Just lean on me, I’ll try not to knock into your cuts.”

 

So he did. Strong arms kept him from falling, carried all his weight as they carefully walked along. Steve was more hopping than walking, but it didn’t seem to matter. Bucky’s sleeves were covering his hands, his pants pooling at his feet. It was beyond him how he hadn’t tripped over his own feet at this point. The main thing he noticed was that the black sweats brought out his soft blue eyes and cherry chapstick red lips. 

 

It wasn’t a big apartment, or maybe it was. He wasn’t used to apartments that didn’t take up an entire floor of the building and then some, at least not anymore. A year and a half ago he did, but now all he knew was stark white with shades of grey and black against the marble floor tiles and speckled countertops. Amazing how those were the only things that brought any color to the room.

 

There were two smaller bedrooms, one painted a pretty blue green, the other almost, but not quite, matching Bucky’s eyes. The second was empty and completely plain, minus a few boxes of things that either hadn’t been unpacked or were unnecessary. The first, though, had been turned into a quaint little office. Small models of multiple houses were set up on all but one of the five little tables, the last being reserved as a personal desk. 

 

‘Do you make those little houses yourself?’

 

They stopped for a second, presumably because Bucky was looking over at the aforementioned models. Steve was sore, every part of his body was screaming at him to go lie down, but goddammit he wanted to know about this. Getting to know Bucky better had become his new favorite pastime, if you could even consider it one.

 

“Oh, those? Yeah, I do. Usually I just draw up some blueprints, make some rough sketches. Although sometimes I’ll get a particularly fascinating or beautiful design for a house, and I just have to make a smaller version of it to keep for myself. I have more put away in the next room over, those are painted though. I haven’t had time to fuck around with the ones in there yet.”

 

‘That’s really cool! You’ve gotta show me the rest sometime.’

 

“When ya get better, I definitely will.”

 

With that, they continued along on their slow trek to the main room. 

 

Purple with black trim stared back at him, a line of darkness slashed across the middle of each wall. Grey light shone in through the window, illuminating the room and showing off the colors inside.

 

The bathroom had a relatively big mirror, tall enough for you to see most of your body in it. He wasn’t exactly excited to see himself, but was still filled with curiosity. 

 

“Can ya do me a favor and take your shirt off for me? If it’s not too cold, pants too?”

 

‘Yeah, of course.’

 

Stripping down, Bucky still supporting him to keep him from breaking his nose as well, all he noticed was the sheer amount of bandages and gauze covering his body. 

 

“So how do ya wanna do this? I just take off everything and let ya look yourself over before I fix it all back up?”

 

Steve nodded, which was met with a shrug from Bucky. It was difficult, peeling off the medical tape as carefully as humanly possible to avoid causing Steve any more pain than he was already in. The more bandages came off, the more damage he saw.

 

Once finished, Bucky dragged him back over to the mirror, where Steve kept himself up by holding onto the counter. 

 

His entire side was torn up horribly. It was the kind of shit you see in movies, where the person in the crash ends up in the hospital and dies. Except somehow he wasn’t dead. It didn’t make sense, he definitely should at least be in the hospital hooked up to a million different machines, but here he was, (not really) walking and talking like any other person, ignoring the absolute fucking mess that his entire right side was. All of it would scar, pretty badly, he was sure. He suspected that something in his leg was extremely fucked up, based on the throbbing pain he felt entirely because he had walked for maybe two seconds. 

 

It wasn’t just cuts and gashes either, half of his body was one big goddamn bruise. His cheek had a scrape, a prominent bruise underneath, blooming black and green on his relatively pale skin. No fucking wonder it hurt so much.

 

‘Holy fucking shit.’

 

“Finally I’m not the only one worried. See that shit?? Tell me it’s something you can heal on your own.”

 

‘This looks awful. How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?? Maybe she hasn’t noticed that I left. God, I hope she didn’t’

 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, an emotion akin to anger in his eyes.

 

“Well fuck, are ya on house arrest or somethin? You need her permission to leave the house? I can go drop you back off so you won’t miss curfew!!”

 

‘I’m serious, Buck. She could be worried sick right now.’

 

“Yeah well right now, I’m the one worried. Sit your ass back down so i can clean you up again. Grit your fuckin teeth, I’m getting the alcohol out.”

It was over soon, thankfully, and he found himself back on the couch with Bucky. 

 

He had his sketchbook and a charcoal pencil at his disposal, so he began to do what he did best. He drew.

 

Bucky’s soft features began to appear on the page, a fluffy tuft of hair almost long enough to fall into his eyes laying peacefully on his forehead, separated from the rest of his rebellious hair. Cloudy grey eyes, the kind of grey where angel rays shine through to give the world a glowing gold aura, fixated on the movie now playing on the background. His pretty mouth came next, lips (the ones he wanted to kiss) slightly parted, face holding an awestruck expression. This really was his favorite movie, wasn’t it? 

 

Drawing his body was relatively easy. The sweater consumed any semblance of a figure he had, so he simply sat and leaned against the arm of the couch, using his clothing as blankets. 

Steve finished all too soon. Next time, he was determined to get his arm on paper as well.

 

“Hey, it’s late. There ain’t much space on here and I’m probably gonna end up falling asleep on here if I stay any longer, so if ya want, I can leave you be out here.”

 

‘No!! It’s perfectly fine, really. I’m having fun and don’t want you to go inside yet. If you fall asleep out here, I won’t have a problem getting to sleep even with you here. I promise.’

 

Bucky looked hesitant, but god, Steve really didn’t want him to leave. 

 

‘You keep insisting that I’m not a bother, so now it’s my turn to say that right back at you.’

 

“Well when ya put it like that, how can I say no?”

 

That's how Bucky ended up asleep on his lap halfway through the movie, looking more peaceful than Steve had ever seen him, really. It wasn’t something he was supposed to do, he was getting married, why was he doing this? The slight feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach didn’t stop his from threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He smiled in his sleep when he did that, so how could he stop? 

 

The feeling he got when he saw Bucky like this made the feeling of guilt all but disappear. The rest of the world was irrelevant, they were the only thing here. It was like a bubble, and nobody could pop it. 

 

It was relaxing, the feeling of Bucky's chest rising and falling, his soft hair between Steve’s fingers. Before he knew it, sleep began to cradle him, telling him to just give in and rest. A feeling he hadn’t had in ages, sleep had always been a cruel, elusive mistress. Eyes closing and darkness enveloping him, he slipped into a deep, calm, dreamless sleep. 

 

That night, he had no dreams or terrors, all he felt was warmth.

 

When he woke, he was almost immediately thrown into a panic. He was curled up next to Bucky, the other man’s arm draped protectively over him. A million things went through his head, the main one being  _ this is wrong, I shouldn’t be doing this right now, shouldn’t be doing this at all (YOU’RE ENGAGED ENGAGED ENGAGED GETTING MARRIED STOP STOP STOP) _

 

Then why did he feel a pleasant calm, why was he happier to wake up than he’d been in so long? All of these things were almost completely new to him due to a lack of feeling them, having them. 

 

He was still tired, it was who the fuck knows what time in the morning, still dark outside. Though he tried to avoid it, his eyes closed once more, and unconsciously, he inched just a bit closer to Bucky. 

 

The next and last time he woke up, it was due to losing a bit of warmth, an arm being pulled away from him. Steve moved back towards it, not appreciating being a bit colder than he was before, whining annoyedly.

 

A hand that probably shouldn't be warm brushed his hair out of his face, then cupping his cheek. A soft chuckle came from right next to him.  _ Bucky. _

 

Steve didn’t think he knew that he was awake at the moment, so he kept his eyes shut and kept pretending. 

 

Bucky hugged him as tightly as he could without hurting him.  _ Please, please don’t let me go.  _ He was finally safe, he wanted to stay here. 

 

But of course, he couldn’t. He let go of Steve, getting up to go do something, taking the safety with him, but not all of it. How was it that within the course of a week, Steve knew that he would probably trust him with his life?  _ I’m an idiot. Overattached, clingy,  _ _ pathetic _ _. _

  
_ Why am I like this?  _ There was nothing he could do about it, and he knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help a brother (sister? something? human being? fellow homo sapien?) out and drop a comment, they help me sleep at night (after I stay up until four in the mornin tryna get to my word goal ;) )


	11. If The Lord Don't Forgive Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @god: make me stop making Steve's life so miserable please the main person im hurting is myself

Steve’s pathetic little pity party (self hatred party?  Do those even exist?)  would have continued, if not for Bucky gently shaking him awake. The smell of bacon had filled the house, he noticed. How the hell had he missed that? For fuck’s sake, it was  bacon .

 

“Stevie? You awake? Come on, sleepyhead. Breakfast is almost ready. I’ve got baaacon!!” 

 

He was speaking softly, in a sing-song voice. Steve liked this. It felt almost domestic. Sleeping next to each other, limbs intertwined. Waking up to the other having made breakfast. If he wasn’t in the position he was in, they’d be in the kitchen, Steve coming up behind Bucky as he cooked, hugging him and kissing the top of his head. Bucky would turn around, and of course they’d kiss. That’s how it always went, didn’t it?

 

No, he thought.  It didn’t always go like that, not for him, at least.

 

“Steve, wake up!! If ya dont get your ass up, the food’s gonna burn!”

 

‘Mmmm….don’t wanna..’

 

Bucky’s smiles were loud, you could practically hear them. It was like the sun beating down on him on a cool day, warming him head to toe despite the temperature. 

 

“Open your eyes, you’ve gotta get outta bed now. Or outta couch. That doesn’t make sense. Whatever, get outta couch!!”

 

‘M’kay.’

 

Opening his eyes in the morning had always been something he hated. The reason for that, he thought, was because he’d never woken up to Bucky’s mischievous face right in front of his.

 

“Hi there, sleepyhead. How’re ya feelin?”

 

It had been pleasant to wake up, at least until he sat up and tried to stretch. He’d heard the term ‘my leg/arm/some body part was complaining before. Steve had all those fuckers beat out, because holy fuck, his leg wasn’t just complaining, it was screaming at him. He couldn’t stop the pained yelp that escaped his mouth.

 

‘Oh FUCK that.’

 

Bucky furrowed his brow, then patted Steve’s good leg.

 

“Hey, you’re okay, alright? We’re gonna go get you fixed up today, and it’ gonna make ya feel a hell of a lot better, pinky promise.”

 

He sat there with his pinky up, looking expectantly at Steve.

 

‘People still make pinky promises?’

 

Bucky responded with an extremely offended gasp. 

 

“Excuse me? Hell yeah they do!! They are by FAR the BEST and most reliable promises! How do you not know this?!”

 

‘Well, ‘m not a nerd like you.’

 

“Ya fuckin know what?? The only damn nerd I’m seein here is you! Just gimme your damn pinky, I’m tryna make ya feel better and you, who I thought I could TRUST, stabs me in the back and calls me a  nerd . I’m heartbroken, Stevie. How could you do this to me?!”

 

They were both giggling at this point, something Steve didn’t know he didn’t have the ability to do. Bucky grabbed his pinky and made him link it with his.

 

“This is me promising. I don’t break my promises, Stevie. As long as ya decide to keep me, I’m makin sure you’re happy and alright, no matter what.”

 

That brought him more happiness and comfort than anything else, filling him and overflowing through his tear ducts. He sat there like an idiot, laughing and crying, Bucky staring at him in confusion with a bit more than a pinch of distress.  The recipe says to add half a cup of distress to the pint of confusion due to an idiot crying like a dumbass.

 

“Shit, what’s wrong? What’d I say? Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

 

No, no, that’s not what happened, he hadn’t done anything wrong, he was helping, helping so much. Shaking his head, he swiped the tears away, but to no avail. Every time he wiped them away, they were immediately replaced with more than there had originally been.

 

‘Mm-mm, it’s not you, it's’ a good thing.’

 

“What happened? Are you okay?”

 

‘Food’s gonna burn.’

 

Bucky seemed to get the message, that this wasn’t something they’d talk about right now, if at all. 

 

“Alright. Some food’ll do you good, don’tcha think? I’ll be back in a flash, try not to move around too much. Don’t want ya gettin hurt anymore than you already are, doll.”

 

He couldn’t seem to form words at the moment, so he simply nodded. The tears had begun to cease. Bucky came over and crouched down in front of him, wiped a tear from his cheek.

 

“Don’t cry, darlin. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

 

Steve didn’t know when the pet names started, or when Bucky had begun to look at him like that. He was finally able to see the adoration and compassion in his eyes. He moved away from him, although everything in him said  No!! Stay, let him hold you. Don’t leave!

 

Of course, he didn’t listen. They parted, Bucky giving him a sideways smile, Steve mirroring his expression. 

 

“Oh fuck the food is gonna burn. I’ll be back!”

 

As Bucky left the room, heading to the kitchen, Steve began to think, which was never good. 

 

What the hell am I doing here?   
  


That was the one thing that was continuously on his mind. Why was he doing this? He should be doing something, should be saying something. Reject him straight up, remind them both that he was engaged, to be married as soon as they finished planning out their new house. They’d probably never see each other again, and if so, they’d be absolutely nothing more than friends. It didn’t matter that Steve’s heart fluttered every time Bucky so much as looked at him. He and Bucky had just reconnected after two years of not contacting each other. In those two years, both of them had changed a ridiculous amount. Steve was now with Sharon, and he sure as hell knew that he was absolutely nothing, a hopeless broken coward with no spine. He would  never be the person he used to be. The person he was had been happy and outspoken, always up for a fight if it was needed. Steve had always only ever wanted justice, and yet here he was, in a loveless relationship, refusing to accept it for what it was.

 

As for Bucky, he’d lost Peggy in a different way than he had, but lost her nonetheless. Not just her, but he’d lost his arm, yet he’d gained years of maturity and strength. He was still the mischievous little shit he used to be, and yet you could see how the stress and pain had aged him. It had done him a lot of good in many ways, he was realizing. He’d changed in a way that made Steve want to get to know him all over again, more than he ever had before.

 

No, this isn’t what I was thinking about.

 

Why would he always get so off topic when thinking of him?  Engaged Engaged Engaged,  his mind whispered to him relentlessly. Steve couldn’t get a break from it.  Fuck off, he thought. I’m going to eat breakfast with him and enjoy it. It’s just breakfast.

 

It was just breakfast, it was just staying the night two days in a row, it was just falling asleep in his arms, it was just longing to walk up to him and pull Bucky into a kiss. That was a bit unrealistic at the moment, seeing as he couldn’t walk, but he could dream.

 

“I’ve got food!! Hey, you okay? You look like the fuckin coffee table threatened to kick your ass. She’s innocent, I swear!”

 

Every damn time Steve was being consumed by the thoughts that would pull him into the darkness and threaten to drown him no matter how hard he tried to keep his head above water, Bucky always seemed to know what to do or say. Steve’s heart would lighten, he’d finally feel bright. Yellow and orange, green and blue, purples and pinks. The best kinds of colors, like baby chick fuzz yellow and freshly grown grass green. Darling blue eyes shining with an abundance of happy, the purple of a room with black trim. Orange and pink mixing together to create a beautiful sunrise or sunset. All colors that nothing else could compare to. That’s how he felt every time this happened.

 

‘Well, she said she’d take my bacon, and we can’t have any of that shit. I haven’t had bacon in over a goddamn year, so hand it over or I’ll have to use brute force!’

 

Steve hoped that he made Bucky feel the same way, that his eyes going wide and nose crinkling as a smile spread across his face was because of him. Before he could think any longer about it, he was handed a gorgeous plate piled high with eggs, pancakes, and bacon. His brain shorted out and suddenly, all he was seeing was food being shoveled into his mouth at the speed of light.

 

“Jesus, slow down, Steve! I guess now that we’ve established my table’s gender, we gotta find her a name, huh? What do you think?”

 

‘Mmph?’

 

“That’s right, ya seem kinda busy with all that damn food in your mouth. How is it that you eat this fuckin much and still stay in this kind of shape?”

 

Shrugging, he continued to inhale the contents of his plate. 

 

“How does Debbie sound? She’s a lonely, sexually frustrated white soccer mom who takes out her anger on poor, unsuspecting cashiers. Ya know, the kind that has the ‘I want to talk to your manager!’ haircut?? That sound good to you?”

 

‘Mhm!’

 

“Finish that bite of food already! I wanna talk with you! If I can eat and talk at the same time without lookin like an absolute savage, you can too.”

 

The bite(s?) he’d taken was far too big, and when it came time to actually have it go down the hatch, he began to seriously re-evaluate his life choices. Bucky seemed to notice his distress, smirking knowingly and handing him a nice, cold, glass of milk. He’d never been more thankful than he was at that moment, chugging the whole thing at once. It felt like he was swallowing a fucking rock, and Steve swore to himself that he would never do that again. Of course, it was an empty promise.  If it was a pinky promise, he’d keep it. They’re the most reliable kinds of promises, remember?

 

‘That’s some good shit right there. Remind me why you don’t have a restaurant or something along those lines?’

 

“I dunno, I had the option to do that at one point but I guess I liked architecture a lot more. My friend, Nat, she owns this place that’s real cute. Hey, if it’d make you feel any better, I’ll take ya after we go to the doctor, as a little pick me up. Wouldja like that?”

 

‘Hell yes I would. I’m not sure if you’ve realized this yet, Buck, but I really, really,  really fucking love food.’

 

Steve wasn’t going to lie, he’d completely forgotten about going to the doctor. Just thinking about it made his stomach do a very unpleasant acrobatic flip of some sort, making him second guess having eaten so much not a minute ago. 

 

“Speakin of, how’s your leg doin? Try standin for me, maybe?”

 

‘Her name’s going to be Debbie, huh? How many kids do you think she has? Her husband probably has a beer belly and a big-ass bald spot. What do you think?’

 

“While I think that’s totally spot-on, I think you’re changin the subject and gotta try to stand for me.”

 

Damn him for being able to see right through Steve. To be fair though, he HAD been pretty ( extremely ) obvious about it. 

 

‘Alright, fine, fucking  whatever. Could you move over here just in case it decides to give out? I don’t need to lose any more skin on that side.’

 

“No shit I’m gonna do that. I’m gonna ignore that sass and help ya anyway because I don’t fight cripples. That aside, do ya really think I’m gonna let ya get up just like that? Hell no. You’re gettin my help whether ya like it or not, dollface.”

 

Every damn time he heard one of those stupid-ass pet names, ( wonderful they were wonderful he wanted to hear them all day ) the room was on fire, or maybe it was just him. Either way, they made him feel like he was flying, he could do anything, if just to hear him say it one more time. 

 

Slowly, Steve lifted himself up from the sofa, attempting to put weight on his right leg. He could  not keep this up for long, it hurt so badly. But going to the hospital was the last thing he wanted to do, so with his teeth clenched, he took a step forward with his bad leg.

 

Next thing he knew, he was lying on the floor with Bucky trying to get him to regain consciousness. 

 

‘How did I do?’

 

Bucky scoffed.

 

“The fuck do ya mean ‘how did I do’? You’re on the floor tryna wake up from blackin out, dumbass. I’m gonna help ya get ready and then we’re gonna go. I better not hear a single goddamn complaint either or we ain’t goin to Nat’s place afterwards. Trust me when I say ya don’t wanna miss out on her pie.”

 

It had been embarrassing to have Bucky help him around everywhere, but nothing prepared him for having him help Steve into the fucking shower. He couldn’t shower, really. Just sat in the tub and tried to wash up as best he could. For fuck’s sake, he couldn’t even dress himself properly. Nothing had ever irritated Steve more than not being able to do things himself. Feeling helpless reminded him of his early years, a time he’d never wanted to revisit.

 

As he struggled to get his (new) boxers (that Bucky bought him) on, he silently freaked out, considering the possibility of having broken something in his leg. If he had, at least it wasn’t either one of his arms or hands. Sure, his wrist (his entire fucking arm) was extremely sore and currently felt like it was on fire, not reacting well to the water. The cuts were especially not reacting well to the towel. It was to be expected, they still weren’t even close to being healed. 

 

‘Hey, Buck? I’m done.’

 

It was strange having someone dress your wounds while you were half naked, directly after you’d taken a shower. It was ten times more strange with a healthy dose of awkward. Bucky was gentle about it, though. Steve was eternally curious and fascinated by his metal arm, for some reason. 

 

‘Can I touch your arm?’ 

 

Bucky quirked an eyebrow.

 

“The metal one? I mean. If ya wanna, then sure. Be careful, just ‘cause it’s metal doesn’t mean I can’t feel whatever you’re doin. Trust me when I say I can definitely, one hundred percent feel it.”

 

‘So I’m not allowed to, say, bite it?’

 

Steve enjoyed making Bucky laugh, the way his nose crinkled made him extremely happy. He would have to be sure to sketch him out like that, so when he went back to the apartment he’d have something ( someone ) to keep him company.

 

“Kinky. Do me a favor though, don’t bite it. Somehow, it’s more sensitive than my actual flesh and blood arm, if you can believe it. Not only that, I’m over here tryna change your damn bandages, ya probably don’t want me jerkin back and accidentally or maybe not so accidentally fuckin you up more. On top of it all, I’m almost completely sure your girl wouldn’t appreciate me makin any moves on a pretty little thing like you. She got to ya first, right?”

 

‘Yeah, I guess she did. No worries though, I don’t bite. I’m just really curious.’

 

He wasn’t going to deny the truth. There’d been no mention of anything running through his head, and the other man hadn’t said anything ( he called me a pretty little thing say it again ) either. They fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

 

Steve reached out with his good arm and brushed his fingers against the cool metal of Bucky’s arm ( Skin? Would it be considered skin or just more metal? ). Bucky relaxed, leaning into his touch just the smallest bit. 

  
It was entertaining, exciting tracing all the intricate details, every single one. He was determined to mentally draw them all with his finger, memorize all of it, but all too soon, it was time for them to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I'm so excited to actually start diving right into the story. I cannot fucking believe that these past 25k words have all been backstory and buildup for the actual story to start up. Why am i like this lmao
> 
> Anyway, comments give me life I love all you guys ahhhh


	12. He Never Asked Me Once about The Wrong I Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad for steve wtf why am i like this to him

Before he could try to heft himself up, Bucky simply picked him up and began walking out the door. He seemed to notice Steve’s extreme confusion and slight annoyance and just shrugged.

 

“It’s easier this way. There are stairs, I don’t want your crippled, stubborn ass tryna make your way down ‘em. Because we both know ya ain’t gonna let me help ya very much.”

 

‘That’s...true. But I don’t need this much of your help. I can definitely go down a flight of stairs!’

 

“Ya can’t even stand up on your own without blacking out, Steve. Not to mention that we’re on the third floor, by the way. If ya wanna do it anyway though. Be my guest.”

 

That was the last time Steve complained. Bucky loaded him into the passenger seat, being careful as usual. 

 

‘It was because you make me feel safe.’

 

Steve was bad at bringing up shit like this, he knew that. He hadn’t wanted to have to explain, but the puzzled look on Bucky’s face told him that he would have to.

 

‘Earlier, before breakfast? I just...forgot how that felt, I guess. I had no idea how to react. I’m sorry.’

 

“Oh my god Stevie, don’t apologize. Give me a second, I’ll be right in the car.”

 

Of course he was panicking in the few seconds he was left alone, dreading Bucky’s reaction to what he’d told him. He’d laugh, tell him that safety was a figment of his imagination. Scoff at his dramatic reaction to simple words that meant nothing to him, but  everything to Steve.

 

The car door opening made him jerk his head up to look, causing his vision to spin and head pound. He grimaced, trying to regain the ability to see properly.

 

“Hey, you okay?”

 

Bucky slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, which made a sound akin to the purring of a happy cat. Steve nodded ever so slightly to avoid having his head fuck around with him. 

 

“Alright, good.”

 

He paused, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Eyes darting up to Steve’s eyes, then down to the floor, he took a breath and began to speak.

 

“I’m sorry I made ya cry. I don’t know what ya mean by makin you feel safe, though.”

 

‘I just felt okay. Like I really was going to end up being alright. It felt like...like I wasn’t alone, just for a bit. I didn’t think that could happen anymore. Not after I lost her…’

 

Sometimes, you could hear the sound of someone’s heart hurting. Bucky looked as if he was in more pain than Steve was, and he wasn’t even missing a quarter of the skin on his body. 

 

“Sharon? You’re getting married. Does she love you, Steve? Do you feel safe?”

 

He didn’t have an answer. Looking down, he willed the traitorous tears in his eyes to go away. A minute of silence went by, though it felt like a year. Bucky spoke softly, like he was talking to a scared animal.  He was, Steve thought.  That’s all I am, a caged animal with nowhere to go.

 

“I make ya feel safe?”

 

Steve nodded this time, as opposed to doing nothing. He could hear Bucky’s heart melt, it showed on his face, too.

 

“That’s all I ever wanted. I want ya to feel safe and happy. If it’s around me, even better.”

 

‘I’m glad it’s you too. I like being around you. I guess...I just kinda realized that I really missed you.’

 

“I missed you too, Steve. More than you know.”

 

Bucky brought him in for a hug, but it felt almost like it was more than that. It felt like unspoken longing and affection. It felt like fresh snow, bright, delightful, soft and fluffy. He hugged back as tightly as he could, half trying not to hurt himself, the other half (the dominant half) not caring what happened as long as he got to be as close to him as humanly possible. The stinging pain was worth it, if just to be able to look directly into his eyes the moment they began pulling away.

 

Both of them hesitated for a moment, and Steve could have sworn he was about to be kissed. 

 

BA-BOOM!

 

He jumped ten feet into the air, the thunder scaring the absolute shit out of him. Moment ruined, they gathered their wits and tried to recompose themselves.

 

“We’ve procrastinated enough, don’t ya think? My doctor’s waitin for ya as we speak. He doesn’t believe me when I say you aren’t imaginary. Ya gotta come with me to prove him wrong, or he’ll be convinced I’m completely off my damn rocker. Might put me in a padded room, straightjacket and all. That’d be no good, we wouldn’t get to talk about shit and be gushy together anymore. We can’t have that, now can we?”

 

With that, they were off. 

 

Steve noticed that the place Bucky lived was really nice. It was a cute little suburbian area, not too big and not too small, a happy vibe to it. 

 

As they drove down the road, he remembered the other night. He hadn’t cared whether or not he died, in fact, as he had gone flying, part of him was relieved. The only regret he’d had was not getting to be with Bucky more. 

 

That terrified him. Something like that with Sharon had sent him into what he realized was a mental and emotional breakdown. Shutting down, all he saw was his art, forgetting about his health and wellbeing. Bucky was right that night, he could have died, whether or not it was caused by the crash. 

 

“Hey doll, you okay?”

 

Honesty had always been the only thing that exited his mouth at times like this. It always caused situations that made him hate himself just a bit more, yet he could do nothing to prevent it.

 

‘Not really. I’m just kinda thinking about the other night?’

 

Bucky looked slightly nervous.

 

“Huh...which one, exactly?”

 

‘The crash? I guess I’m just kicking myself for reacting so stupidly over a petty argument.’

 

There we fucking are, he thought. Too much information, too quickly. Soft blue eyes turned to steel in less than a second, looking over at him. 

 

“Stevie, what argument? If you want to, you can tell me what happened.”

 

Don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it (please say it).

 

‘Please don’t hate her.’

 

Worry and anger was radiating off of Bucky.

 

“I’ll try.”

 

That wasn’t good enough, was it? It wasn’t supposed to be. He was supposed to clamp his mouth shut, lock it and throw away the key.  (Peggy taught him to pick locks, so he did just that).

 

Don’t do it.

 

But of course, when had he ever listened to himself? He’d always been good at opening locked doors.

 

‘She was angry, it wasn’t bad. My phone died when we were out, so I missed some calls. I thought she was going to be out, she always is. Sharon told me not to wait up for her. I think she might have gotten into a fight again.’

 

He shouldn’t be shaking. Bucky was looking straight ahead, face completely blank. Taking a deep breath, Steve kept going.

 

‘There was some yelling, she thought I was cheating on her. She insisted my type was brunettes with blue eyes, and I guess she’s not wrong, but I wouldn’t cheat on her. I love her, right? I do. I really do. She was still kind of drunk, and I try to stay away from her when she’s like that.’

 

“Why?”

 

Other than that question, Bucky’s face hadn’t changed in the slightest. Steve didn’t want to answer, couldn’t answer without making Sharon look bad, and she wasn’t bad. Bucky would think she was. That didn’t stop him from continuing. 

 

‘She likes fighting. Sometimes I think she sees me as someone to fight. I just try to block her and go to my studio.’

 

“So she hits you.”

 

His teeth were clenched, Steve saw. He hoped that Bucky didn’t break his teeth. That would hurt.

 

‘It’s just when she comes home early and I’m not in my studio. I’m okay.’

 

“Did she fucking hit you.”

 

‘She threw some stuff, I don’t think she cleaned it up yet.’

 

“Stevie, that’s not what I asked.”

 

‘No she didn’t’

 

Bucky inhaled sharply, breathing in shards of fury and anger, red and orange and fiery.

 

‘Don’t burn yourself.’

 

He looked over at Steve in confusion, his eyes regaining some of their blue.

 

“What?”

 

‘The fire. Don’t burn yourself.’

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, darlin.”

 

Sometimes he forgot he was the only one who saw it. Steve wished he could share the colors with Bucky.

 

“Okay, do ya wanna stop talkin now, sweetheart?”

 

‘...No...if that’s alright with you?’

 

“Oh Stevie, of course it is.”

 

At this point, who cared if he kept going. A weight was lifting off his chest, he had someone to tell. All this time, he had nobody but her, and now? Now he had Bucky. He had a friend, one who cared about him so much ( too much but that’s okay that is very okay) . 

 

‘I had to run to my studio. I didn’t really come out for a while. Does a week count as a while? I’ve turned into kind of a room. There’s a few blankets and a pillow, a bathroom too. I put in a mini fridge and I have a little camp stove. When I’m feeling- I mean, painting, I forget to eat. Not usually for this long. The other times i managed to forget for this long, I didn’t go anywhere afterwards. Going to your office was probably a bad idea with the way I was, huh?’

 

“Well no shit, Steve. I thought you were gonna fuckin die in the back seat of my car! You were soaking wet, and half of it was blood instead of water. You looked like hell itself had come up and almost shredded you to bits. God, just…”

 

Bucky drove off to the side of the road, putting the car in park and burying his face in his hands. When he did speak again, his voice was small and scared, unsure.

 

“I really didn’t know what to do. You’re someone I can’t lose. I just fuckin got you back, I can’t take that again.”

 

‘Wait, what?’

 

Steve never wanted to see him with tears in his eyes again. He wanted to hug him, envelop him in his warmth. Rock him back and forth until the sad went away, like a kid. Bucky laughed, sad and bitter, even.

 

“I looked for ya for a while, never found ya. I checked up on your old place every so often. Both you and Pegs were gone, the hell was I supposed to do? Eventually I graduated, got my degree and a job, then moved out here. City just wasn’t the same without you two.”

 

He shifted uncomfortably, not looking Steve in the eye.

 

“We weren’t the closest friends, I know that, but you were probably one of my best friends. Didn’t have many, not a lot of people wanna be friends with an overly happy, obnoxious douche. You were mellow and happy and your art was, still is, beautiful. Made my day. Seeing you made my day. You and Peggy, of course.”

 

That was the moment that Steve Rogers, whether he knew it or not, decided to let things play out however they did, without putting up a fight. His heart was in his throat, and all he could do was sit there like an idiot, trying to find something to say. Of course, Bucky beat him to the punch.

 

“So like I said. I can’t lose ya. Don’t pull stupid shit like that, please, Stevie.”

 

He meant it, with every fiber of his being, you could feel it radiating off of him. It wasn’t so much asking him to stay safe, it was more of a desperate plea to Steve, begging him to not leave once more. Bucky wasn’t just wearing his heart on his sleeve, but in a way, he’d just handed it over to Steve. Now it was up to him to figure out what he’d do with it.

 

Steve held out his pinky.

 

‘I’ll try my hardest to not do stupid things like that, pinky promise. They’re the most reliable kinds of promises, did you know that?”

 

Bucky sat and stared, and for a split second he thought he’d fucked up. The moment he saw an earsplitting grin grace his face was the second he knew he’d done something right. Bucky linked their pinkies together, eyes brighter blue than the sky, bluer than liquid happiness. 

 

“Pinky promise.”

  
His smile made every bit of pain Steve had ever endured more than worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, expect bucky's reaction to the shit with sharon :^)
> 
> Comments give me the motivation to keep going and not drop dead <3 <3


	13. I'd Never Want Once From The Cherry Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm fuckin dying here. Trying to raise money for black friday, writing out christmas lists and figuring out tf my budget is. Trying to catch up on nanowrimo (yes, s t i l l), trying desperately to also get ahead so i wont get even more behind becayse of thanksgiving and shit. 
> 
> Basically, I'm really, really, r e a l l y sorry for not updating the past two days. I hope today's chapter makes up for it!

It would have been nice if the smile had lasted longer than it did, but within a few seconds, Bucky’s face darkened. 

 

“Sharon, she isn’t good to you. Does she really love you, Steve?”

 

What? Yes yes yes yes yes she did, how could she not? She lived with him she stayed with him and she loved him. She even told him that sometimes ( but when? When was the last time she-)

 

‘...Yes? She does.’

 

Bucky pursed his lips, a raincloud over his head. It may not have been raining outside anymore, but Steve thought maybe he would need an umbrella to lend to his friend.

 

“I’m just gonna say that when you’re answerin that question, the reply shouldn’t be a question. If it is, then somethin is usually wrong.”

 

‘Well then it’s not a question. Yes she does.’

 

“Alright, sugar.”

 

He ended that bit of the conversation there, and that should have been that for Steve. But the seed of doubt had been planted, sending his brain into maximum overdrive, overthinking every last bit of his relationship with Sharon. 

 

“I’m worried about dropping you back off at home when we’re done here, Steve. What if she gets angry again? Half of you already looks like it got attacked by a giant fuckin cheese grater. You can’t even walk. How are ya supposed to run? Fuck, why should you have to be running in the first goddamn place?! I don’t know how I can just let you go back and not know what the hell is happening with her there. It’s none of my business, I know that, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying like hell, doll.”

 

‘I’ll be fine. She won’t hurt me, Sharon loves me.’

 

“You keep saying that, and I don’t know who you’re trying to convince right now. Is it me, or is it yourself?”

 

Red and orange were the angriest and most desperate colors, and opposed to popular belief, purple and blue were the colors of hurt, black was sadness. Right now he saw orange and purple, not knowing what to do. Red surrounded him, panic running through his veins. It only made sense, blood was red and now so was he.

 

‘I’m not trying to convince ANYONE. I’m telling you, god I’m telling you because IT’S TRUE. You aren’t believing me I don’t know how to tell you because you don’t believe me. She treats me well, she’ll come home sometimes sober and we’ll sometimes have dinner together and she’ll tell me about her night. Her eyes are a nice blue sometimes, she’ll laugh and tell me to cheer up. She’ll put on a movie and fall asleep and I’ll think about stuff but cover her with a blanket. 

 

Sometimes I’ll cook for both of us and she likes it and she tells me that I should cook more often and even though she isn’t there a lot I still do and I still wait for her even though she doesn’t come home. She comes home with bite marks on her shoulders and neck from fights sometimes and I’ll make them feel better, I’ll bandage them for her. 

 

She likes my paintings and tells me which ones she thinks will sell well. She’s the one who goes to the auctions to represent me because I don’t like going. Sharon is a good person and she gets angry easily and hits me, and I can’t see her very often but sometimes she’s good to me and I need her to be good to me because if she isn’t then who the fuck will, Bucky? Who else is going to love me and be there with me? I just need someone, I need her, I need to know that I’m not worthless and I’m not black and white. She makes me feel grey, and it’s not black and white, so it’s good enough for me.’

 

When he stopped, it was dead quiet in the car. Steve was annoyed at how easily he was crying lately. He couldn’t control his emotions, hadn’t felt them in so long, they simply ran free and did whatever they wanted. 

 

Bucky looked so sad. Every time he opened his mouth, he made Bucky feel sad. Steve was a sad person and he knew that he was always going to be like that.  This is why I don’t leave the studio, he thought.  At least there the only thing I make sad is my paintings and myself.

 

‘I’m okay when I’m with her. You don’t have to worry.’

 

He was being hugged. Steve didn’t want to be touched, he was supposed to be sad. He was supposed to be left alone, he was supposed to paint now. Why wasn’t he in his studio? The only thing touching him should be a paintbrush or the floor. He didn’t want to be touched ( so why was he grasping onto Bucky for dear life, finally able to have someone to hold him as he cried? Why why why why why?) .

 

Steve didn’t want him to let go. Bucky knew this, didn’t he?  Keep me in your arms, his mind screamed, hurting his ears. It didn’t make sense for his ears to hurt when his mind was the one making the noise, but then again most of his thoughts didn’t make sense.  Please don’t let me go,  it kept screaming. He wished that it would stop, even if what it was saying was true.

  
Bucky was warm, thawing him out. He was comfortable, that was the only way he could be described. Steve and him fit together perfectly ( is it really a coincidence?) , even though it should be an awkward position. Bucky was leaning over to the passenger seat to hold him, seatbelt on. 

 

It had to end at some point, he just didn’t expect it to be because the seatbelt locked and started kind of choking Bucky. He had a coughing fit and tried to take it off as soon as possible, but got stuck in it. 

 

“Fuck, please help.”

 

Steve’s tears were forgotten at the sight of his friend tangled in his seatbelt, unable to escape. This time, he was the one to lean over and undid the clasp, the belt going flying back to the area near the car door. 

 

It seemed like they were both out of luck, as his belt decided to be a complete dick and lock him in place as well. Bucky laughed and helped him out of it, patting him on the back once they had both been freed from their prison.

 

“Well that was interesting, wasn’t it?”

 

‘I never thought that I’d have to be freed from a damned  seatbelt ’

 

“No fuckin kidding.”

 

Now, it had definitely become awkward. Neither of them knew what to say, not after Steve’s nervous, emotional breakdown. He half expected to get kicked out of the car and left there ( he’d deserve it, of all the things to say, I had to say that nobody else but her could be good to me? He is of course he is they’d just met but he was better to him than she ever had been but-).

 

Stop fucking talking.

 

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

 

‘Huh?’

 

“I’m sorry for bringing all of this up. Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

 

‘It’s alright. I didn’t expect it. You’re just worried about me, and I guess that is your business. I’m sorry for getting mad.’

 

He’d realized that it really was alright. Talking about that to someone, voicing his thoughts, it had made him feel better, surprisingly enough. 

 

“I’m the one who fucked up, darling. I really am worried, but if you don’t want me to stick my nose in it, I won’t.”

 

‘Thank you, Buck. That means a lot to me.’

 

It was incredible how quickly the atmosphere could change from bad to playful and excited. The engine puttered back to life and soon, they were off once more, driving down the road to who knows where.

 

‘So, are we just going to the hospital or are we seeing a doctor you know? I’ve had bad experiences with just having some random-ass doctor working on me.’

 

“I can definitely relate to that.”

 

Shit, that’s right. His arm. Steve’s eyes went wide, but before he could spew a thousand apologies, Bucky cut him off .

 

“Nah, I’m bringin you to my doctor. He’s a great guy, you’ll love him! Apparently he used to have some bitchin anger issues, but he’d never hurt a fly. Name’s Bruce Banner, absolutely fuckin incredible. Did I mention that you’ll love him? Because trust me when I say that you will. I’m so damn excited to introduce you two to each other.”

 

‘Alright, that gives me something to look forward to…”

 

“Make ya feel any better?”

 

‘Just a bit. Thank you for that, I’m not as nervous as I was before.’ 

 

“I’m glad. Hey, ya wanna put on some tunes?”

 

‘Depends on whether or not your taste in music is shit.’

 

“Whoa there, I feel personally attacked right now, My taste in music is definitely not shit. Maybe yours is, but I can guarantee that mine is vastly superior.”

 

‘Holy shit, what’s up with the big words? I didn’t think that you even knew them.’

 

“Hey, are you callin me stupid?!”

 

‘If the shoe fits, I guess.’

 

“EXCUSE ME?!”

 

The whole damn trip there was spent like that, bickering and laughing and smiling, and before they knew it, they were there. 

 

The building was very hospital-esque. Really big, kind of ominous, white, with ambulances in the back and shit.  It’s just like before,  Steve thought.  It still looks the same as it did before.

 

His mind wouldn’t stop thinking of his last night with Peggy, the stark white walls, tile floors, the beep and the inevitable scream of the heart monitor. Lungs weren’t working, legs were working less than they were before, he was paralyzed in his seat, unable to even think about going inside. His voice wouldn’t work, and when his lungs did work, they were only there to take quick, terrified breaths, the kind that made you feel like you were floating. Not floating in the good way, but the way where you can feel that you’re going to fall soon, yet you keep going higher and higher, waiting for the ball to drop. So Steve waited for himself to fall.

 

Someone was rubbing their hand in small circles on his back, calling his name, comforting him, they were there for him. Someone was giving him a parachute, a way to get down safely. 

 

“Come on, Stevie, you’re okay, I promise.”

 

Pinky promises weren’t allowed to be broken, so he had to be okay, he’d been promised that he would be. So he knew that he was. It was just a temporary feeling, he would be okay soon. His eyes opened  (when had he closed them?),  there were hands holding his head up, keeping him above water.

 

‘I’m okay...right? It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.’

 

“Yes it is, darlin, it really is. What’s goin on, sweetheart?”

 

The names made him feel better every time, how could they not? They made him feel good. Colors filled him, pulling him out of the cave he’d fallen into.

 

‘Haven’t been to one of these since Peggy.’

 

“Oh fuck, I didn’t even think of that.”

 

‘It’s okay. We’re in and out of here, right? We aren’t staying the night or anything.’

 

“Hell no, we’re just checking out your leg.”

 

‘You’re checking out my legs? I mean, I don’t mind at all, but we should get to know each other a bit more first.’

 

He was still shaky and pale, but his dumb ass still managed to wink exaggeratedly to get a laugh out of Bucky. Those smiles always made him feel better, and he needed to see one right now.

 

“You just almost passed out and you’re already flirtin with me again? I should be the one pullin that kinda shit.”

 

‘Beat you to it.’

 

Steve had gotten to the point where he didn’t absolutely hate getting picked up by Bucky. It would just have been nice if he’d ask him before he did it.

 

‘Fuck! At least warn me before you do that, goddamn. You scared me.’

 

“Sorry, I just thought the sooner we get in here and get out, the better.”

 

‘That’s a good point.’

 

So they walked. Or rather, Bucky walked and Steve was carried. It was slightly awkward checking in while being carried, but he didn’t mind very much. As long as he had Bucky holding him or touching him in some way, he was very happy. Nervous and scared, but happy. A pretty nurse wearing pretty scrubs with a pretty voice called them in

 

“Mr. Barnes?”

 

“Oh yeah, that’s me.”

 

She also had a pretty smile. Steve felt green. Jealousy was not a good color on him.

 

“It’s nice to see you again, James.”

 

“Hey, Hill.”

 

Mentally, he was cheering.  I get to call him Bucky and you don’t! He barely even said hi to you!  He wondered if he could get any pettier than that. 

 

Steve had thought that it would be different, seeing as it was a hospital. The waiting room had had carpet floors and decorative plants everywhere. The hallway had pretty paintings on the wall, and he spent most of his time comparing himself to the artists on the walls. Some of them looked similar to art styles he’d used in the past. He thought they were nice, definitely better than his work.

 

The nurse knocked on the door whose nameplate read “Dr. Banner, Bruce”. A mellow, somewhat shy voice called out.

 

“Come in, Maria!”

 

He thought the door made a pleasant sound opening. Much better than other doors he’d heard. The hinges didn’t squeak, it didn’t make a cracking noise, like it was unsticking from the doorframe. It simply opened right up with no complaints or issues. 

 

Jesus christ, why did he focus on such stupid, insignificant things at times like these?

 

The man inside immediately made him feel more at ease. He looked shy, but extremely friendly. Almost like a sheepish puppy, not sure whether or not to go up to you but still very happy that you exist.

 

“Hey there doc, how ya doin?”

 

“Hello, James, I’m doing pretty well, how about you?”

 

“I’m doin just fine. My friend here though, Steve, he can’t walk right now. And his side looks like ground beef.”

 

Well he wasn’t wrong. Bucky set him down on the patient check up bed, or whatever people called it. The doctor instructed him to take off his shirt, if he could.

 

“It’d be better if you stripped down to your underwear. James, do you think you could wait outside for a bit?”

 

‘WAIT. He can stay can he please stay? I don’t mind, I just...I need him in here with me.’

 

Both Bucky and the doctor looked slightly puzzled, Bucky looking more happy than anything. He knew it was because he’d begun to realize that yes, Steve did indeed trust him.

 

“I mean, if you feel comfortable with that, then sure. James, there’s a chair over there, you can sit if you’d like.”

 

That’s how Steve ended up half naked sitting up on a checkup bed, with a doctor looking at him with extreme concern and confusion.

 

“So, tell me. How the hell did you manage this?”

 

‘It was raining the other night, I was on my bike, driving over to his office. My tire slid, caught a rock, or something, I went flying and slid alongside it.’

 

“A  bike did this to you?”

 

Bucky piped up.

 

“Doc, by bike he means his motorcycle.”

 

Bruce looked frustrated and absolutely, completely fucking done with the situation. Above all, he looked extremely irritated at Steve.

 

“You went driving on a motorcycle, in the rain, in the  dark , with no helmet or anything on?”

 

‘I had jeans on, I changed out of my sweats before driving.’

 

“Yeah, that makes it a lot better, thank you. When did this happen?”

 

‘Two days ago? Almost at night. It was dark out.’

 

He turned to Bucky.

 

“Now as for you, why the hell didn’t you bring him in earlier?! He could have had a concussion or something along the lines of that, James. I know you, and I have no idea how you would be so damn careless about something like this.”

 

Bucky looked like a little kid who’d been caught trying to take a cookie from the cookie jar.

 

“I know I should have, but he was asleep most of yesterday and the day before. I cleaned him up, though, see?”

 

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“Yes, I saw that. Good job.”

 

Steve’s leg hurt. Steve’s everything hurt. He wanted to get on with this and have the doctor make him feel better as soon as humanly possible. The small talk could be avoided. The pain in his leg and side could not.

 

‘I’m sorry, but my leg hurts like a bitch. Actually, everything hurts like a bitch. Can you please just check me out so that I can go home? I really don’t like being here and the sooner I can leave the better. I’m sorry if this makes me sound like an asshole but please, I’m just hurting.’

 

“Oh, of course I can. I apologize for striking up so much conversation, I just needed to know what caused this so I might be able to treat this better than I could if I didn’t know.”

 

And so, he took Steve’s blood pressure, listened to his heart ( was it still beating? Was it broken?) and lungs, checked his eyes and ears, the works. He was about to test his reflexes, but seemed to remember about his leg and stopped. Instead, he got to disinfect and treat Steve’s wounds. He clenched his fists and teeth, trying to keep it together. There was nothing he hated more than the stinging of a cut being cleaned.

 

“I’m not sure how you’re not dead, or missing a limb.”

 

‘I slid across dirt on the side of the road into some grass. My leg hurts a lot, and my side definitely is in pain too, like, the entire goddamn right side of my body. But other than that I’m alright. I probably should be dead but I’m not.’

 

After he’d been bandaged and Bruce had explained how to change them and work with them, it was time to deal with his leg.

 

“I’m going to feel around gently, and when it hurts, just say so.”

 

Steve hadn’t even had to ask, Bucky had come over to hold his hand all on his own. It made him feel a little better. 

 

Almost immediately after Bruce started feeling around his leg, Steve yelled at him to stop, squeezing Bucky’s hand so hard that he thought that maybe he’d need Bruce to check him out too. A shocked doctor recoiled in alarm as Bucky hissed in pain.

 

“It hurts? Just like that?”

 

‘Fuck, yes, please don’t touch it again’

 

“Alright, we’re going to send you in for an x-ray, see what’s going on inside of there. What I think so far, though, is that it’s broken. You’ve got some pretty nasty bruising along there, as well as quite a bit of swelling.”

 

The blood drained from his face for the millionth time in the past hour alone.

 

‘What does that mean for me? Will I have to stay here overnight? Are you going to have to amputate? Am I going to be able to walk again?’

 

He shushed him, rubbed his back again.

 

“Hey, hey, broken bones aren’t as bad as ya think. You’re gonna keep your leg, right doc? See Stevie? Your leg’s gonna stay attached to your body. You’ll be able to walk again, ya just might need a wheelchair or crutches and a cast until it heals. Bruce, is he gonna have to stay overnight? Nah, you won’t have to stay here, sweetcheeks. You’re good, doll, I promise.”

 

‘Really?’

 

Bucky brushed Steve’s hair out of his face, cupping his cheek fondly. Steve had realized that Bucky wore his heart on his sleeve ( he wanted to hold it and keep it safe ), and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that ( ENGAGED ENGAGED ENGAGED) .

 

But when they were like this, he forgot everything but him.

 

“Really really. You know I keep my promises.”

 

Someone cleared their throat in the background, snapping them both back to reality. Bruce stood awkwardly, eyebrow quirked with his clipboard in hand. 

 

“So, I’m going to send you down for x-rays. I’ll go grab you a wheelchair real qui-”

 

Bucky whispered to Steve.

 

“Get ready.”

 

Before he could ask what for, he was getting scooped up in Bucky’s arms once more. He couldn’t even be mad, that technically counted as a warning. Plus, with all that was happening, he was eternally glad to be having Bucky hold him  (safe and warm) .

 

“We won’t be needin the wheelchair, thanks though, Bruce!!”

 

Steve almost felt bad for poor Bruce, who seemed exasperated as hell. 

 

“James, I don’t want you to hurt yourself too”

 

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m gonna lose my other arm, and if I do, we can just call that one guy up!”

 

Steve was a mixture of horrified and amused, which came out as a choked laugh. 

 

“Fine, alright, whatever. You won’t listen to me either way.”

 

They were passing the paintings again, when Bruce stopped in front of one of them.

 

“Wait a second, is that the one who painted these?”

 

What? Bucky laughed nervously.

 

“Yep, that’s the one.”

 

‘These are mine? They’re better than mine. When are these from?’

 

The doctor seemed immensely happy, but after he started talking, it all became background noise, just him talking about how incredible and talented and  creative Steve was. It was okay, some people still thought that. His older pieces still had life, he noticed. They had color and some happiness. Some of them he recognized from college, before anyone even knew his name. People had always told him that they’d never sold, so what were they doing here?

 

‘Where did you get these? I didn’t think these ever sold.’

 

“Oh, they didn’t! From what I’ve been told, the school was going to just trash them, but James here said he’d take them. He gave them to me when I decided to decorate. I think he still has a few at home, don’t you?”

 

Bucky’s face was embarrassed, worried, and sheepish all at once.

 

“Yeah, I do, actually...I didn’t sell them, he’s just borrowing them.”

 

‘That’s…’

 

He could see his friend’s heart sink to his feet, expecting the worst.

 

‘That’s really...I don’t know what it is. It’s something good, but I have no idea what to say. It’s a really good not knowing what to say, though.’

 

Steve never thought he’d see these again, but in a way, he was glad he had. It felt like seeing an old friend, and though they didn’t recognize you, you knew them, and that was enough for you.

 

What got him, though, was the fact that Bucky had kept them after all these years. 

 

‘You really kept them?’

 

“Yeah, why would I not? They reminded me of you and Pegs. I couldn’t let em go, just like that. I have to come by here all the time to check up on my arm and shit, so the fact that they’re hangin up here makes me feel a lil less like shit whenever I have an appointment. Sorry, Banner. I love ya but damn I hate these appointments.”

 

“No, trust me when I say I understand that.”

 

Steve just hugged Bucky a bit more, trying to pull himself a little closer to him, if possible. 

  
‘Thank you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's comments have been so nice, I legitimately tear up when I read them. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through this fic! 
> 
> Comments give me life <3


	14. What My Hands And My Body Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its like midnight and I'm tired but I'm going to update because fuck if im writing and just letting it sit.

There was really no response needed for that. They bid the doctor adieu and walked down to the lab to get those x-rays over with.

 

Steve hadn’t realized that he’d have to go in by himself, due to the radiation and all. Bucky set him down so he could get the photos done. 

 

Don't leave me.

 

Jesus, his deep seated abandonment issues seemed to like rearing their ugly head at the most unfortunate times. He wanted to grab Bucky’s sleeve like a little kid and ask him, no, beg him to stay. The x-rays took almost no time at all. Never in his life had he ever been more thankful for modern technology than at this very moment. 

 

There came a point where it began to feel like a dream. His leg hurt from being moved too much, his side and arm hurt so badly, and whenever he got a glimpse at them, Steve felt like he was going to be sick at the sight of the shredded, beaten, and bruised skin. If it could even be called that. 

 

He didn’t remember being picked up and dragged back upstairs, didn’t remember people trying to get him to come back to the land of the living. The world was just shimmery and fuzzy and peaceful. 

 

What he did remember was waking up back on the checkup bed to the sound of Bucky arguing with the doctor.

 

“Well how the hell is he supposed to get home?”

 

“I guess he won’t be going home today, then. He’d be staying here if the break was bad enough that we’d have to operate to fix the bone, but he just needs a cast. It takes a while to dry, and he shouldn’t be walking on it for a good while.”

 

“God fucking dammit. I just don’t want him getting hurt, I know the dumbass won’t take care of himself back at home.”

 

Steve sat up slowly, trying to make his head stop spinning. When the fuck was his head going to stop screwing with him? He really didn’t appreciate the headaches and passing out. 

 

‘What part of me is broken?’

 

Bucky looked relieved to see him awake, he came over to hug him, mindful of the bandages.

 

“Your shin is fucked up. It ain’t bad, but ya need a cast. It’s gonna take about a day to fully dry, and you’re gonna have to be extremely careful with it. Take it easy and just sit.”

 

‘So I’m not going home yet?’

 

A very, very, extremely small part of him yelled that he needed to get back to his fiancee and stop getting attached to this man, but the rest of him rejoiced so loudly that he could hear it rattling around in his brain, echoing. He was insanely happy, gleeful, ecstatic even. The apartment would mean he’d be cold again. Not physically, of course, the heater was always on the fritz when it got cold. Cold inside. It always managed to make him feel like he’d been submerged in an ice bath, no matter how hot it was outside. 

 

Now, he got to be warm for one more night, hopefully one more day. Steve chose to try and believe Bucky when he said that Steve wasn’t putting him out, that he enjoyed having him around. He hoped it was true, because he knew that being around Bucky made him feel higher than the sun, moon, and stars. 

 

“Nah, not yet. You’re stuck with my dumb ass for another night.”

 

‘Well, what a fucking shame that is.’

 

Though he’d originally been terrified of coming here, the terror had ebbed and turned into boredom with a side of nagging pain.  Side of pain? Get it? Like your-  Steve stopped that train of thought halfway through. He’d scared everyone enough, no need to start laughing at absolutely nothing right now. 

 

The cast was put on, which held his leg in place, safe and sound from being jostled around and bumped into. It almost felt as if he could simply stand up and walk out of here. That wasn’t a possibility right now, seeing as how the cast would break the second it hit the ground, just as quickly as his leg had. 

 

“So, we’ve gotta get him a wheelchair, right?”

 

Apparently the answer to that question was yes, seeing as how in what seemed like twenty seconds, he was being carted out of the hospital in one. 

 

Steve wasn’t exactly happy about this, in fact, he was kind of annoyed. It sounded selfish and childish, but he’d wanted Bucky to carry him out. God, why was he like this? It’d only been a week, it’d only been a week. Why was he already so attached? If he was any more attached than he already was, he’d be Bucky’s prosthetic arm, for fuck’s sake. He could have just been reading into it too much, but Bucky didn’t seem too happy about it either. 

 

“I fuckin hate these stupid things. I’d rather be carryin ya, but you gotta have one of these when ya go back home or you’re fucked, right?”

 

‘We don’t really need it right now, though. Do we?’

 

Bucky looked pensive, trying to figure out what to do in his head. It was almost comical how Steve could see the very moment he got an idea. He half expected a light bulb to show up above his head.

 

“Alright, I’m gonna get ya in the car. Then we stuff this dumbass chair into the back, and I can drag ya around anywhere you want, yeah?”

 

He loved that idea, and it showed. No answer was needed, they both knew exactly what he was going to say. Bucky just unlocked the door and loaded Steve into the passenger seat for the second time today, threw the chair into the trunk, and started the car once more. 

 

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them saying a thing. Who knew what to say?

 

No words were needed as Bucky silently slipped his hand into Steve’s. 

 

He couldn’t keep himself from flushing pink and looking down at their loosely interlaced fingers. Couldn’t keep himself from smiling, no matter how hard he tried. Bucky couldn’t keep in the quiet sigh of relief when he saw the smile, couldn’t keep himself from doing exactly what Steve just had, with an extra helping of nervousness. They both just couldn’t stop themselves, as usual.

 

They began to pull out of the parking lot, Bucky letting go for just a bit to back up and get on the road, but of course, he came right back, somehow unable to not have contact with Steve for more than a few seconds. Was it that he was unable, or that he just didn’t want to? One day, he hoped to find out.

 

“You remember those birds you were talking about last week? Your favorite ones?”

 

Surprisingly enough, nothing changed once he started talking again. The atmosphere stayed the same, they were both still comfortable and safe in their little bubble. It was happy, and he loved it.

 

‘The ones with the yellow chests? Of course I do. I didn’t think you would, though.’

 

“I couldn’t get that out of my head last week, the second I got home, I went to look them up. I thought maybe you’d like to know what they’re named?”

 

Every time something like that came up, Steve was turned to mush. The fact that Bucky’d been thinking about something he’d said that was so insignificant and unimportant made his heart soar. It was something important to him, nobody but Peggy and his mother would have cared. 

 

‘You thought about it? It wasn’t anything important, I mean-’

 

“It was important to me. It’s your favorite bird. Plus, I was curious. So do ya wanna know or not, nerd?” 

 

‘Yes! Yes, I really want to know what it is.’

 

“Those pretty lil things are called yellow-bellied flycatchers. It’s a pretty literal name, ain’t it?”

 

All he heard and saw in that moment was the affection he felt for his friend. He cared enough about Steve to go and search to find information about things for him, entirely because he knew that Steve loved it. Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand the slightest bit in an attempt to possibly send him his feelings, show him all the happiness he felt at that moment. Of course, that didn’t happen, but it sure as hell did get the message through to him.

 

‘Thank you...I love them so much. They mean a lot to me.’

 

“Can I ask why?”

 

Of course he could. Steve told him as much, preparing himself for what he was about to say.

 

‘My mom and I, her name was Sarah, she was beautiful. Her hair was lighter than mine, it looked like spun gold. In the morning light, it rivaled the beauty of the sun. Her eyes were like mine, but without a trace of green in them. Just pure blue. 

 

Anyway, we’d go out onto the balcony of our little condominium to get fresh air and look out at everything for a bit. I was always really sick as a kid, so that was the best I could get. Never asked for anything more than that. 

 

She’d be in her rocking chair, and every so often, the flycatchers would come by. Only when I was sitting in her lap on the chair, though. They’d perch on the balcony wall and just watch us.

 

I would draw them. If I ever had the time, I could find my old drawings from when I was a kid. I can guarantee you that you’ll find at least a hundred sketches, paintings, charcoals, everything of them. 

 

Even when it was so hot out that my stick of charcoal would get too hot for my fragile little hand to hold. My mom would bring out lemonade and we’d sip it together. It’d be ice cold and just sour enough for it to be absolutely perfect.’

 

“That’s why you said they remind you of…”

 

Yep, sunshine and lemonade on a hot summer day. Just like when i was a kid.

 

I don’t know. Any time I see them, I associate them with that. Yellow-bellied flycatchers mean my mother rocking me back and forth on her chair with her, it means that i can hear and feel her heart beating again, it means that she’s here with me again.’

 

Bucky’s thumb was tracing circles on his hand, soothing and calm. 

 

‘And now it means you. It means the boy with the blue eyes and bright smile and the huge personality pointing at the birds and being a nerd about movies and always making light of situations at the right time. I guess it means the boy who cares enough to get me to talk. The one who cares enough to find out more about my favorite things. Now it means that too.’

 

And it did. His memory bank had been added to by him, a dumb fucking blue eyed kid who’d just waltzed right back into his life after almost two years. You’d think he might want out, but instead, he was overjoyed at finding Steve again. He made an effort to listen and remember things about him. 

  
He made Steve think that maybe, just maybe, he could possibly fall in love all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's comments are so nice, thank you!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Comments still keep me goin ;)


	15. I Just Think About My Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortish chapter today y'all, school is once more kicking my ass. NaNoWriMo is almost over, but I swear to god I'll power through!!! Just for you guys!!!

Bucky was absolutely dumbstruck, sitting there with his cheeks pink and mouth open as if to say something. Nothing came out, leaving him sitting there like an idiot ( _ he wasn’t an idiot, he was a huge goddamn dork) _ , gaping at Steve.

 

It was definitely too soon to say this, any of it, but fuck if that was gonna stop him. I mean, everyone knew that he was the king of bad decisions, so he threw caution to the wind ( _ nothing out of the ordinary, then)  _ and kept going.

 

‘I never thought I’d see you again either. At first, I didn’t recognize you, not because I didn’t care about you back then, but because I just haven’t seen anyone in so long. It wasn’t you. God, I missed you so much. If it was anyone else, sure, it would have been nice, but you? You’ve always, always been able to make the best of a bad situation.

 

And I guess my situation isn’t the best. I just want you to know that being around you makes me happy. You just make me happy. Thank you for making me feel colors again for the first time in what feels like forever, Buck.’

 

This was the moment where he was supposed to lean over and gently kiss him. Steve wanted to. God, he could tell Bucky wanted to. When he looked up and met Steve’s eyes, his heart beat so quickly it almost stopped. 

 

All he wanted was to stay a while, more than a day, more than two, just being with him. It was selfish and probably not the best thing to think, but he kept thinking over and over that with every second that passed, he became increasingly thankful that he had a reason to be here ( _ that’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it? You could have died). _

 

He made a decision right there. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel those cherry red lips on his. Steve kept looking down at Bucky’s lips, and part of him thought that maybe Bucky was doing the same. It was just him, he wanted it so badly that he was seeing what he wanted, that was all. 

 

Steve swallowed hard.  _ (Fuck it. You almost died, you should live life to it’s fullest, shouldn’t you?)  _ So of course, he threw caution to the wind and began to lean in.

 

**_I’M A BOSS-ASS BITCH, BITCH, BITCH-_ **

 

Both of their eyes went wide, snapping down to Bucky’s pocket, which was apparently very suddenly singing. It kept yelling at them, effectively ruining the moment for them both. But fuck, of course that was his ringtone. The hell did Steve expect, a generic beep or ding? Of course not, it was Bucky.  Speaking of, his face was bright red as he whipped out his phone, apologizing profusely as he answered it nervously.

 

“Yeah? Yeah I’m fuckin bringin him. No, I didn’t die. Yes, I’m on my way. NO, I DID NOT!! God fucking dammit Nat, just make some fuckin pie or some shit before I get there. Okay, yeah, love you too.”

 

The phone went flying into the backseat, Bucky had a good arm apparently. Annoyance was rolling off of him in waves, filling the car. They were moving again, puttering down the road, once more going who knows where. That seemed to be a common theme today. Steve thought that maybe he should crack a window, but when he went to do so, he noticed that it’d begun to rain again. Bucky cleared his throat, looking startled after he did, as if he’d been louder than he’d expected to be.

 

“Anyway. Sorry about that. Nat was callin to check up on us.”

 

‘Nat?’

 

“Oh yeah! Natasha, I think you used to call her Romanoff? She was in like, one of your classes once. We talked a bit, but after everything, we got a lot closer. Nat was the one who found me after the crash. It was right in front of her lil restaurant and everything. I didn’t really have any family to help me out, so she decided that she’d be my family. I had no say in the matter, that’s usually how shit is with her. She always knows what’s best, too. I love her bunches. We’re related, basically, but also not. Am I makin any sense?”

 

He was rambling, trying to mask how nervous he looked and sounded. Had Steve caused that?

 

_ (no shit, sherlock) _

 

‘Yeah, I understand what you’re saying. Romanoff, the redhead? The one who looks like she’ll eat you alive if you make one wrong move?’

 

“That’s the one.”

 

They were passing his land, he noticed. Every damn time, he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap at all the possibilities it held. 

 

‘I never got to show you my sketch, did I?’

 

“No, you didn’t. You were rambling about it the other day, sayin it was a different one. Ya said it was yours this time.”

 

‘Never mind about that, it’s probably soaked by now anyway.’

 

His eyes were fixed on the road, but Steve could feel Bucky giving him that look just screaming ‘I call bullshit’.

 

“It was in the waterproofed bag, and there weren’t any holes in it, miraculously enough. I’d say it’d be fine, just like your sketchbook was.”

 

Fuck. 

  
‘Forget about it, Buck. It’s not a big deal, just playing around with a few different designs that aren’t going to happen anyway.’

 

God fucking dammit, he should not have said that. An architect, especially one that loved his art, wouldn’t let it go at this point. Not when they heard the words ‘different designs’. Every time Steve thought he’d dug himself into a hole that couldn’t get any deeper, the shovel was set aside and his mind brought out a fucking jackhammer.

 

“Whoa, the fuck do ya mean forget about it? I wanna see them! We could play around with the designs more and add shit to the house your…fantastic...wife-to-be wants to build.”

 

There it was. The killing blow. ( _ We could add shit to the house? Bitch why are you waiting, let’s go!) _

 

‘I mean, I have it with me so-’

 

Your life shouldn’t flash before your goddamn eyes twice in three days, especially not after a motorcycle accident. And yet, here he was, eyes wide and ready to die as the car swerved to miss a squirrel. A fucking squirrel. Bucky’s arm shot out to hold him against the seat, protect him from getting hurt. 

 

“FUCK!”

 

Strings of curses that would make a sailor cringe were all he was hearing from Bucky at the moment, and he definitely would have joined in if his brain hadn’t completely stopped, along with the car.

 

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, Steve, are you okay? Did I hurt you? I didn’t want you to get hurt or jerk forward too quickly or anything, oh my god. I’m so sorry, I’m so-”

 

Steve put his finger to Bucky’s mouth to shush him ( _ this seemed to be a trend _ ).

 

‘You just kept me from flying through the windshield, Buck. I have no fucking clue why you’re apologizing.’

 

“Oh. I’m sorry for apologizing.”

 

‘Goddammit Bucky.’

 

“Shit, sorr- oh fuck, sorry. FUCK?!”

 

A laugh bubbled up out of him, louder and happier than he’d expected. Neither of them expected it, but the look of relief on Bucky’s face made Steve feel a lot better about the sudden dumbassery.

 

‘You say sorry so often that I’m starting to think you’re Canadian!’

 

“Hey, it’s not that bad. I’ll kick your ass, eh?”

 

‘Fucking nerd.’

 

“I resent that!”

 

This was nice. This whole goddamn thing was nice, the past two, now almost three days had been fantastic. If he could, he’d leave it like this, the two of them going places and sitting at home, watching movies. 

 

( _ Home?) _

 

Startled, his laugh was cut short. Home? What the hell did he mean by home? He’d been there for two nights, one of which he could barely even remember. Home? That word didn’t mean anything to him, at least, it shouldn’t. But it had started meaning something, and all he knew was that this wasn’t good. 

 

Bucky’s job was to help him build a house, then leave. They were friends, sure, but after this, he’d probably never bother talking to Steve again. Didn’t matter whether or not he and Sharon were moving out here, she wouldn’t want anyone over, and Bucky sure as fuck wouldn’t like her. Hell, they hadn’t even met and already he disliked her. ( _ Can you fucking blame him?) _

 

Hold that thought.

 

He was getting married to her, yet part of him was agreeing to the thought of Bucky not liking her? 

 

Steve didn’t like this, he didn’t like what was happening. It’d been over a week since they’d seen each other, longer since they’d had a conversation that didn’t involve her being mad ( _ being mad? She tried to hit you again, almost did. She grabbed you and shoved you and threw shit at you, hoping for it to land and break and shatter and scar you, mad doesn’t even begin to describe it-) _

 

“Hey dollface, you okay?”

 

‘Hmm?’

 

Worried eyes were studying him. Times like this, Steve could read him like a book. ‘ _ What’s happening? I want to take it away, let me take it away and keep you safe please just let me in.’ _

 

Right now he wished he couldn’t read him like a book. ( _ I want to I want to I want to let you in) _

 

He was engaged. Still engaged. There was no reminder of that on his person, and he wished that he could forget, but that wasn’t a possibility.

 

“I asked if you were alright, pumpkin.”

 

Every time there was a new pet name, he realized that he could, in fact, blush harder than he had the last time.

It was infuriating ( _ It was wonderful)  _ and he hated it  _ (and he loved it) _ .

 

Returning to reality, his heart dropped to his feet, as it always did around this area. A thought occurred to him, and it was definitely not a good one.

 

‘Bucky, where did you say we were going again?’

 

“Huh? Oh, right up here. I love this place, Nat got it from her dad, and he got it from his, and so on.”

  
They pulled into the parking lot of his and Peggy’s diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)
> 
> Comments give me motivation!!! I love you guys!!!


	16. 'Cause My Baby's Sweet As Can Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little while, but currwntly, I'm busting my ass tryna get to 50k wordd by Wednesday. Bleach shots, anyone? I'm buyin! 
> 
> Anyway, to compensate for the lack of updates, have an accidentally too long chapter lmao

Oh please no not again

 

Steve made a noise, sounded like he’d been punched in the gut. The car was off and Bucky was ready to go inside but no no he couldn’t do this.

 

He and Peggy would just go inside and buy food, take it to go and make trouble somewhere around there. Maybe being inside and eating there would be okay?? Maybe it would make him go nearly insane, running away and blacking out, screaming or being unable to breathe. Bucky had come over to his side to open the door for him, and was standing, waiting for Steve to get up enough that he could pick him up.

 

“Stevie? Are you okay? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

‘Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay. Let’s just go inside.’

 

“Hey, babydoll, are ya sure?”

 

Both he and Steve looked somewhat surprised at his new nickname. Bucky definitely looked shocked, as if he didn’t expect himself to say that. He was pretty sure that Bucky was blushing harder than he was. God, it was this kind of shit that made him weak in the knees

 

‘Yes. I’m going inside with you.’

 

Next thing he knew, he was comfortably cradled in the other man’s arms. Steve wasn’t used to the heavy plaster cast enveloping his leg. While he could finally rest easy and not hurt as much as he did before whenever he’d move his leg, just having it on was extremely irritating. Not being able to do things himself had always been his pet peeve. There wasn’t anyone who was there to help him, so how the hell would he do them now?  But there is someone to help you now, he’s fucking carrying you, dumbass. His mind wasn’t helping at all, that was beside the point. 

 

But it was true. As he was carried through the entrance to the diner, Steve screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the warmth and sturdiness of the arms holding him tightly, making him feel safe. This was almost like a trust fall, minus the fall. I mean, there would be a fall if Bucky dropped him, but Steve was trusting him not to. A familiar, female voice called out. He opened his eyes to see who it was, not liking being left in the dark.

 

“”I was beginning to think that you weren’t gonna bother coming back, you ass.””

 

A redhead, who he barely remembered as Natasha, all but sashayed over to them. Under any other circumstances, you’d think she was angry, but her words were affectionate, endearing even.

 

“Aw Nat, you know I can’t stay away from ya. Or your food, for that matter.”

 

“”All the more reason for you to be coming around more often!””

 

It looked like she’d just seen Steve, scanning him and stopping halfway through, recognition in her eyes.

 

“”I remember you. Nice to see you again...Steve, was it?””

 

‘Yeah, that’s me.’

 

“”The hell happened to you? Looks like you got run over by a truck or something””

 

‘Well, you’re not too far off there.’

 

Bucky laughed, a wonderful laugh that made him feel more at ease. 

 

“I’m buildin him and his...fiancee a house, Nat. He was due for an appointment the other day, thursday. 

 

He was drivin over to my office, on a motorcycle, mind you. Slipped and went flyin, slid across the floor. Ripped up his whole right side, he was real damn lucky it was on dirt and grass.”

 

“”Damn right he’s lucky. You could have ended up dead, or missing an arm, like this one over here.””

 

Jesus fucking christ, his eyes went wide as saucers. He looked over at Bucky, who actually snorted at that, instead of being hurt.

 

“Fuck off, I woulda tracked down that scientist and gotten him one of these nifty metal arms too. We coulda been  twins , Stevie. Damn you for bein so lucky.

 

Anyway, he ended up with a broken shin and some real bad scrapes, some of em needed stitches. Definitely gonna leave scars.”

 

‘It hurts like a bitch, too.’

 

Natasha ( nat? ) rolled her eyes at him.

 

“”Well no kidding it hurts like a bitch. You shaved off half of your skin, I’m betting. Those are gonna be some nasty scars.””

 

“Don’t listen to her, Stevie. You’re still gorgeous, with or without em.”

 

How could he say things like that so flippantly? They obviously didn’t affect him nearly as much as they did to Steve, if at all. Natasha raised one perfect brow at Bucky. He simply shrugged. It was as if they were communicating only with their eyes.

 

“Oh come on, Nat. He knows I’m just Joshin him, right, doll?

 

‘Of course I do.’

 

It was becoming obvious that Natasha had an excellent bullshit detector, based on the look on her face. 

 

“”Alright, well put the poor man down at a booth, and I’ll get some food in him. If I’m feeling nice enough, I might make you some too, Bear.””

 

“Naaaat, I’ve told ya not to call me that. I ain’t five!!”

 

“”Tough shit, Bear. Don’t make me switch up the nickname to something worse. You of all people know not to test me.””

 

Bucky went straight for the corner booth, he claimed it was his favorite. He kept chattering on and on, but Steve was in his own little world. It felt cold, which was strange, because it was at least 80 degrees in here. Peggy was all over here, and it brought him back to the state he was in nearly a year ago. Shut down, not able to really see anyone but himself.  Except that wasn’t you a year ago, that was you two weeks ago.

 

It was nonsensical, yet still true. Life had been detached, not real. No time had passed, at least not in his mind. Like he had said so many, many times before, everything had been shadows and the occasional dull light. Not the sun ( not Bucky) , but ugly, fake, indoor lighting. They tried to imitate the outdoor lights, but failed. Nothing could compare the the sun, moon, and stars, shining and sparkling and giving hope, filling you with a feeling he couldn’t describe, couldn’t distinguish. The feeling of sitting and staring up at the stars, exhilarating for some reason. Maybe it was the cool air, the fireflies hovering around, making it all seem magical. ( Why were they called fireflies? They had no fire, surely happiness and adoration had no fire). 

 

You couldn’t replicate those experiences in the city. Car lights and streetlights and window lights and lights on signs, lights lights lights everywhere. Everywhere but the sky. The moon was visible, but never as bright as it was out here. One day he wanted to take someone  (Bucky) to his land to see the stars with him. Maybe, just maybe, he could pick up some food from here with someone  (Bucky)  and go see the moon with him. 

 

Would that be betraying her?  Peggy would want you to be happy.

 

He didn’t deserve happy. His fiancee was her sister. Happy wasn’t in the cards, for that right there was the ultimate betrayal. 

 

But here was Bucky. And Bucky made him happy. It scared him, and every bone in his body screamed at him to push the other man away to spare him from getting involved in the mess that was Steve’s life. For some reason, though, he just couldn’t. He needed him, he needed a little bit of happy.  Peggy would want you to be happy. 

 

She wouldn’t want him to be happy like this, she’d be mad at him for being ready to marry her sister.  Peggy would want you to be happy.

 

Steve couldn’t just do that, couldn’t just replace her like that. But hadn’t he already?  Peggy would want you to be ha-

 

Someone was ruffling his hair.

 

“Hey, dollface, you with me?”

 

‘Huh?’

 

Bucky sat back in his chair ( Did a booth count as a chair?),  the chair across from him ( Steve hoped it was because Bucky liked talking to him and looking at him, it wasn’t true but he wanted it) .

 

“Where do you go? When ya space out like that, I mean.”

 

Overly honest Steve decided to show his face, much to his dismay.

 

‘Right now? With Peggy. We’d pick up food from here and go on picnics together.’

 

The man across from him paled.

 

“Oh fuck, I brought you here. I fucked up, I’m so sorry Stevie, I didn’t know, I swear.”

 

‘I guess...I needed it. I think that I need to stop hiding? I don’t know, I’m kind of feeling strange right now. It’s not bad, just not exactly good, you know?’

 

Steve wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Bucky’s face was breaking his heart. He looked horrified at himself, not knowing exactly what to do.

 

“I would have picked somewhere else if I’d known, I swear.”

 

‘I want to go stargazing in the forest.’

 

“What?”

 

Stop talking  (Peggy would want you to be happy)

 

‘I want to go stargazing in the forest. I want to have a picnic and stargaze.’

 

“Oh, well that sounds nice. Sharon would like that, I think?”

 

That isn’t what I meant

 

‘She’d hate it. But you wouldn’t, right?’

 

Bucky’s jaw all but dropped open.

 

“Wait, me?”

 

He never got an opportunity to elaborate. Two plates were dropped in front of them, both piled high with food. His mouth watered, at this point, anything that was legitimate food and wasn’t originally frozen made him want to roll over and die of happiness. 

 

“”Here you are, boys. I hope you enjoy your food. Hey, Bear, move.””

 

Natasha pulled Bucky out of his seat and slid into the booth, next to a very annoyed man, eyes a hell of a lot more steely than usual. She rested her chin on her hand, smiling curiously. The woman reminded him of a cat, troublemaking and very aware of the fact that she could do whatever she damn well wanted to.

 

“”So, what brings you back into town, Steve?””

 

‘Um, Bucky told you he’s helping me plan out and build a house for me and my fiancee, I guess.’

 

Taking a swig of Bucky’s drink, she frowned and completely ignored Bucky’s glare.

 

“”Fiancee? Hmm.””

 

Face heating, he looked down. His stomach hurt, not because of the food, but because of something else entirely.  He shouldn’t be here .

 

“Natasha, that’s enough.”

 

“”I didn’t say anything! Alright, then, how’s your art going?””

 

‘It’s going fine. Every once in a while I’ll get hit in the head with a brick of inspiration, but other than that I just do things around the house.’

 

Bucky snatched his drink back from her, shooting her a look that said  Watch what you fucking say.

 

“”I’ve seen a few of your paintings lately. They’re really nice, really really emotional. I love them. It’s more abstract and modern now, though.””

 

‘Yeah, I haven’t sketched people in a while.’

 

Both he and Bucky knew that was a lie. A sketchbook lay on the table back at home ( Bucky’s house, not yours. What are you talking about, home?)  with a drawing of a nearly asleep boy, blue eyes half closed, sweats pooling around him, bigger than any goddamn blanket he’d ever seen, fluffy and messy brown hair falling into his face. It wasn’t long, but it also wasn’t short. It was just perfect  (all of him is).

 

Someone cleared their throat, allowing Steve to regain his grip on reality and start shoveling food into his mouth, not just because it was good, but to avoid any further conversation. 

 

“Anyway, he drew the house out for me, and it’s real damn nice.”

 

“”Where’s he building it?””

 

“Well...the foresty lot?”

 

Silence. Natasha seemed to speak using only her eyebrows, he thought, as she raised them at Bucky.

 

“”Oh really? How’s that going, then?””

 

‘Relatively well, right, Buck?’

 

He paused in between bites to nod his head and hum in agreement.

 

“”I’m glad. What does the house look like, Bear?””

 

“Lemme eat, Nat.”

 

“”Fine, fine. Steve’s almost done with his shit, so I’ll go get dessert. Move.””

 

She scooted until Bucky had no choice but to fall off or get up. 

 

“Oh c’mon, quit doing that. Lemme eat and leave us alone for a bit, will ya?”

 

Waving him off, she once again sashayed away, leaving him and an irritated Bucky behind.

 

“I’m sorry about that, she can be nosey sometimes. Well, she and I have that in common. I just apologize about it, as opposed to her.”

 

‘It’s okay, Buck! I really didn’t mind it, not at all. She seems nice. Just...a bit tactless.’

 

“Yeah, that can be Nat. It’s not even that she doesn’t know it, she just doesn’t care sometimes.”

 

Chuckling, he went in for another bite, only to find that he’d finished off everything on his plate. This should not have disappointed him as much as it did, but that didn’t seem to stop him. 

 

“So, about that sketch.”

 

‘I don’t have it right now, it’s on the table at home- uh, at your house.’

 

He sipped at his coffee. Usually, he liked it sweet. Overly sweet, tooth-rottingly sweet. But something about the bitterness of it kept him rooted in reality. 

 

“We don’t need the sketch to talk about your ideas, do we?” 

 

‘Oh, no we don’t. It’s not important, though. I just want to go with the original design.’

 

“Can you at least tell me about it? I already know about the first design, but this sounds interesting to me. Anything you think up interests me. I just like listening to you talk, if we’re being honest here.”

 

Honest Steve still hadn’t crawled back to where he belonged, and he desperately wanted to, no,  needed  to tell someone. 

 

‘I don’t want to build this one, okay? I’m just, you know, throwing ideas out there. They’re just ideas, a pipe dream.’

 

“They’re just a dream, okay.”

 

‘It’d be in the forest. It would have to be in the forest, I love being in there. I want to explore, and be able to get lost. Inspiration is running out, and the city doesn’t have any, if we’re being honest. There’s nothing left to draw. All that comes to my brain are these horrible modern bullshit paintings. They’re...bad emotions and feelings and memories. I don’t get why people buy them. I’ve seen them, for fuck’s sake, I paint them, and the feel of them is not something you want hanging in your goddamn living room. 

 

I just want to be able to paint the stars and moon, the trees, little streams, and snow. Do we get snow out here? I hope we do, it’d be incredible to draw that out.’

 

“That sounds fucking great, Steve.”

 

‘Pipe dream, remember?’

 

“Yeah, yeah. Amazing pipe dream.”

  
  


‘The house wouldn’t be huge, just a normal sized house. I’d want it to be a cabin type thing. I want it to have a window where I can sit and watch the sun rise in the mornings, and paint it as it sets every evening. I would use the outdoors as my studio, no matter how cold it’d get.’

 

“I mean, it gets real damn cold out there in the winter. Don’t ya think you should have an outdoor studio or somethin?? A glass wall or balcony would work, we’d have to reinforce it and make sure it’s strong as hell.”

 

‘It’d be on the floor, so what’s the point?’

 

Pausing, the other man played with his food, looking somewhat hesitant and apprehensive. Did he say something wrong? Had he been too harsh? As he was opening his mouth to backtrack-

 

“What if I told ya I know a place. Like, on your land, in the forest.”

 

‘I’d probably laugh, because it’s in the forest and it’d probably be more of a shack than a house.’

 

That was a blatant lie. His curiosity was piqued, wanting to know exactly what he was talking about. Where in the forest, what was in the forest? Steve’s mind was going everywhere, creating new worlds in his head. Damn, if this was all it took to set him off, he’d be absolutely blissed out when he stepped foot into the forest and began to explore.

 

Yet, he kept quiet to attempt not to give away how badly he wanted this.

 

“If I took you there, would ya look at it for me? Just look? I mean, your leg is fucked, so I might have to help ya out a bit, but please come with me. I wanna show you something I know you’ll like.”

 

‘...Fine. We’re only looking, though.’

 

Bucky pumped his fist in the air, triumphant and excited.

 

“Fuck yes! Let’s down dessert and we can go!!”

 

Once more, two plates were plopped down in front of them. Steaming hot apple pie with a scoop of melting vanilla bean ice cream was staring up at him. He hadn’t had anything like this in ages, and it took every fiber of self control he had in his body not to just stuff the entire slice ( it wasn’t even a slice, more like a quarter of the fucking pie) into his fucking mouth immediately.

 

“”Hey there, boys, hope you two like it. I know Bear loves this shit, I’m not too sure about you, though.””

 

His friend took his first bite and  moaned at the taste.  Don’t fucking do that please, you’re making this really goddamn difficult for me.

 

“Every time I come here, this gets better and better. How the hell do you even make this?? I need the recipe so bad, Nat. If ya love me, you’ll teach me. I’m beggin you!!”

 

“”No can do, dummy. If I just gave out the recipe to you, you’ll never come back! Your lazy ass will just sit at home and make one as soon as humanly possible. I know for a fact that you’d eat the whole thing in one sitting, too.””

 

“That’s not true!!”

 

Bucky was protesting through a bite of pie in his mouth, if half the pie counted as one single bite. Both Steve and Natasha gave him their best  That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard look, and he returned a sheepish grin as best he could with his mouth full. 

 

“Alright, ya got me there. But I’d totally come back. I can’t make food like this at home.”

 

“”Yeah, but you do make good enough food for you to stay at home and eat only that and pie for weeks.””

 

‘As you just said, she’s got you there.’

 

“Goddammit.”

 

Natasha hip checked him into the corner of the booth, sliding him his plate of pie  (you can’t really call it a plate of pie if there really isn’t any pie left on it, can you?) . Seeing his nearly empty plate and him staring down at his plate as if he’d just lost a loved one, she put down the pie tin she’d been holding  (when the hell did she get that?)  and plopped down another piece  (quarter) of the pie. Bucky’s face lit up and he gave her a tight hug. She squeezed him back, more tightly than he’d been squeezing her. They had a battle of who could squeeze the other the tightest, and Steve winced when Bucky’s back popped multiple times, enough that he was worried that they might have to make a second trip to the hospital today.

 

“Okay, okay! Fuck! You win!!”

 

She was laughing, and his face was twisted in pain, with a hint of a smile.

 

“”You’d think that with that damned arm you wouldn’t constantly be losing to me in these kinds of things, Bear!””

 

“If we were doing an arm wrestling contest, we’d be having a very different conversation right now and you know it.”

 

“”I neither confirm nor deny that statement.””

 

Steve let out a snort, then immediately scrambled to regain his composure. Since when did he snort? She turned to see him, and served him another piece of pie. He wished he could say he didn’t want it because he was too full, but that was a filthy no good lie. Of course he wanted it, and fuck if he wasn’t still hungry. 

 

“”So I heard you guys are going somewhere, hmm?””

 

“I’m takin him to the place, Nat.”

 

Surprise flashed across her face, but it was gone in seconds. It was obvious she wasn’t the type of person to show the emotions she didn’t want others to see. 

 

“”Really? How come? Wait, he owns the land now, right?””

 

“Yep, sure does.”

 

“”How come you’re taking him, though?””

 

Bucky looked over at Steve and threw him a crooked smile.

 

“Mm, just a pipe dream.”

 

“”What?””

 

‘This pie is absolutely fantastic, did you make it yourself?’

 

Subtle. Natasha just rolled her eyes.

 

“”You fuckin know it. Do you really like it? I’ll send some home with you if you’d want it.””

 

‘That’d be amazing. How much for them?’

 

Getting up for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past hour  (it’d been an hour or more already?? Bucky made him forget everything, even time itself) , the redhead winked and began walking back to the kitchen.

 

“”No worries, it’s on the house.””

  
There seemed to be a running trend of him going to protest, then being interrupted right as he was about to begin to do so.

 

“Let’s start packin up, yeah? I’ll pick you up and you can pick up the pie. Sound good?”

 

‘Definitely sounds good. Anything that involves pie sounds good to me.’

 

And so they began to walk over to the entrance. 

 

Steve had completely forgotten about all the memories he’d had here, and surprisingly enough, he could already tell that they’d been replaced by completely new ones. These weren’t laced with sadness and bitterness. They were happy and playful, colorful and smiling. One thing that hadn’t changed about them, though, was the affection he felt for the person he had made the memories with. 

 

It was like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head. The feelings he felt in both memories weren’t exactly the same, yet one of them was slowly but surely getting to the point that the other ones were at. This wasn’t a good thing, was it? He had a wife to be, she had a goddamn wedding ring on her finger at all times-

 

Did she?

 

When was the last time he’d seen her wearing her wedding ring? Sharon would go out, and on the instances that he’d be out in the dining room, eating for the first time in a blue moon, if he was lucky and she’d wave goodbye instead of simply stalking out, was there a ring? It wasn’t like it was small enough for him to miss. From what he remembered, there was no trace of her enormously obnoxious ring  (it suited her perfectly, didn’t it? They were simply perfect for each other.) . But his memory was the exact opposite of reliable, he must have just missed it  (at least that’s what he told himself).

 

There was no trace of the hickeys on her neck and shoulders, the ones that always seemed to be near her collarbones. Whoever would theoretically leave those surely seemed to love them. They weren’t there, though. The smell of another man’s cologne didn’t exist, his nose never caught it as she walked by. She never reeked of sex, her hair was never mussed up in a way that could only mean one thing. He never saw any of it because none of it ever happened. 

 

When was the last time the wedding had even been mentioned? They hadn’t even begun to plan the wedding, hell, they didn’t mention it at all. There was a ring and there’d been an engagement, he’d asked her to marry him, but nothing had happened in six fucking months. He knew her well enough to know that she was the type to go on for years about the type of dress she wanted  (extravagant and enormous, expensive, probably lined with diamonds if she begged him enough. He’d give in though, he always did, didn’t he?) , about the venue she would want to have the wedding at  (it’d be huge, big enough to fit at least ten thousand people. She would invite half the city, if not all of it. As many people as you could possibly stuff into the damn place. All she would ever want was for everyone to know how amazing and fantastic she was, how much she had and how much better her life was than everyone else’s.).

 

But he hadn’t heard a peep. It should have raised red flags, redder than he could ever imagine, and yet, there was nothing. How out of it did he have to be to not even realize this, not even a fleeting thought about it? 

 

Had he even asked her?

 

Did Steve ever ask her to marry him in the first place? 

 

No

 

She’d told him that they should get married. Demanded it, even. How would Steve be able to say no? Both Steve and Sharon knew he would never deny her wish. He had said why the hell not. There was no question, no option. She said so, so of course, there they were. The queen had made her choice. What she says goes, no doubt about it.

 

He hadn’t even gone with her to pick the ring, right? She held her hand out, wordlessly saying  I’ll take that credit card now. I would say thank you, but why should I? So he did  (he was beginning to see a pattern here). Was it possible that he had been there with absolutely no recollection of it? Steve didn’t remember, could not fucking remember for the life of him, it was all just so fuzzy. They were properly engaged. That’s how it was. He shouldn’t be doubting this, why was he doubting this in the first place? He had absolutely no reason to. This was Sharon, he trusted her and she trusted him  (absolute fucking bullshit) . They loved each other and would spend their lives together  (he would rather spend the rest of his life burning in hell).

 

Bucky.

 

That’s where every single one of his doubts stemmed from. Steve didn’t know why, but that’s where they came from and he had no idea how to stop it. It was because they knew each other before this, right? He and Bucky hadn’t exactly been close, but his memories of the other man involved Peggy  (but that was definitely not why he wanted to be around him) . The reason for this was because he thought of Peggy whenever he looked at him. That was the only reason he wanted to stay at his house, why Steve had begun to think of it as home whenever he thought of Bucky’s apartment 

 

If that’s the only reason, then why is it that every time you see him, you want to be his?

 

Stop. Stop that, make that train of thought derail and crash. Wreck it, make the metal twist and burn it, melt it, watch it dissolve into molten liquid. Make it bright orange and glowing, make it look like you want to dip your hands in it, drink it down your throat. Would that make it all better? God, what a way to go. It’d be so beautiful. Like Peggy used to say, “You can drink lava, but only once!”. It wasn’t exactly lava, but close enough for him.

 

That hadn’t been Peggy, that was Bucky. Peggy had stayed home.

 

That’s right. They had been sitting under the oak tree they all favored. Every day they’d sit there to eat their lunch. Peggy and Bucky would climb it, and sometimes, if he was feeling adventurous, he’d go up with them. All three of them would sit up in branches, trying to find which ones made the perfect seat. He found the most incredible one, it had been perfect to sit and draw them both. 

 

Steve had decided to try to explain the colors to Bucky, and surprisingly enough, it worked. When he’d mentioned bright orange, Bucky launched into a conversation of the time he and his father went to see a volcano after it’d erupted. “God, I wanted to drink that fuckin lava so damn much, Steve. You have no idea.”. He’d chastised him, though seeing him blue eyes sparkle had made him laugh. 

 

It was always memories like these that turned the grey inside him to all the colors known to man, cocooning him and protecting him from it all, light shining through them and creating a stained glass window  (bubble?) . Right now, though, the only thing in his mind was questions, endless questions, with not a single answer in sight.

 

“”Hey, I said it was nice to see you again!!””

 

He was awake, he swore to god he was.

 

‘Huh? Oh, it was wonderful seeing you again.’

 

“”Here’s your damn pie!””

 

The best thing in the world was probably being woken up from what seemed like a bad dream to the smell of hot apple pie and the warmth of it seeping through the box it was in onto your chest. She’d given him not one, but two whole goddamn pies. Suddenly, the need for answers to his questions decreased by a whole goddamn lot. Pie always outweighed anxiety and overthinking.

 

‘Oh my god, I thought you meant a slice or two of it, I can’t just take these without paying you!’

 

“””Damn right you can!!”””

 

Both Bucky and Natasha exclaimed at the exact same time, then turned to each other and exchanged a high five. Bucky’s smug ass gave her a high five with his left arm, and the smack from their hands meeting seemed to echo through the entire country. Her mouth dropped open in shock, which quickly turned into a snarl. She used her good hand to smack him on the shoulder, but of course, he turned at the last second and landed on his metal arm once more. Steve would have been laughing a lot harder if Bucky hadn’t switched Steve to the fireman’s carry. It had suddenly become a lot harder to hold the pies. Natasha shook both her hands out, as if she could simply rid herself of the stinging like that.

 

“”FUCK! Barnes, I’m going to kick your fucking ASS. Watch your fucking back, because I’m definitely getting back at you for that.””

 

‘Hey guys, I know this is hilarious, but I’m about to drop these pies and I’m bruised all over.’

 

Bucky cursed and set Steve down on his good leg for a split second before picking him up properly. 

 

“I’m sorry, Stevie. I completely forgot about that.”

 

“”Yeah, sorry about that. I’m also sorry that I’m kicking you both out entirely due to Bear being a total dick. See ya later, asshat, there’s the damn door.””

 

They waved goodbye, at least, Steve did, Bucky simply walking off laughing his ass off.

 

Back in the car, once more on the road, Bucky spoke up.

 

“So, are ya okay?”

 

‘I’m doing pretty well, actually. It was really nice, and the food was fantastic. Good food makes me happy.’

 

“You were always like that. Damn, you love food, huh?”

 

‘Hell yes I do. I know I keep saying this about a million different things, but I haven’t had food like that in eons. It was absolutely delicious, thank you so much for taking me by there.’

 

“Well...it didn’t put ya off?”

 

‘I made new memories there today. I think I’m going to remember those more than the other ones. We never actually ate there, it would be an in and out type thing, never really sitting down to enjoy it there. Like I said, we’d have a lot of picnics. Hence Natasha knowing me, and wondering about the fiancee thing.’

 

“Just for that lil comment, she definitely deserved the high five thing, if ya ask me.”

 

He loved their conversations, but fuck was he tired of talking about himself. Hell, he didn’t even like himself. 

 

‘Where are we going, then?’

 

“I have a lil golf cart somewhere near the edge of your land, I’ve got a charged battery with me in the back. We can use it to get around, there’s a little path I probably kinda made myself with the cart itself. Would that be okay with you?”

 

‘Hell yeah it would!’

 

“Thank god, I thought I’d have to abduct ya.”

  
Steve was over the moon about the amount of times he’d been laughing lately. He had heard people say that laughter is good for the soul a million times before, but never really believed it. Losing it and finding it once more after so much time had passed had allowed him to realize just how true that really was. Only spending a few days with Bucky had brought him back to life, in a way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'll definitely be updating tomorrow, just to fulfill a promise to someone ;)
> 
> All your comments have been the things that keep me going, thank you so much <3 I love you guys!!


	17. There's Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is my lil birthday gift to natzywoo83, happy birthday!!!! I hope you have a fantastic day!!! I bet the next year of your life is gonna be bomb as all fuck, my dude. Wishin ya the best of the best, darlin <3

‘Did you spend a bunch of time at the lot before I bought it?’

 

The question seemed to take him off guard, Bucky stuttered and spluttered before actually being able to get out a legitimate answer.

 

“I mean, it’s private property, so not...really.”

 

He seemed to be overly focused on the road all of a sudden, not able to unglue his eyes from it. If he’d ask about it, he was sure that the only answer he’d get would be “Just makin sure we’re completely one hundred thousand million BILLION percent sure that we’re safe and won’t swerve like we did earlier, or accidentally pull a you and end up with my other arm fucked up.”.

 

“Okay, that’s a lie. Yeah, I did. It was my favorite place to go. I made a bunch of little paths and shit because of how often I’d go walking around. Do ya wanna know exactly how many times I’ve gotten lost in that huge goddamn forest? So, so, SO many times, Stevie. But as we can both see, I’m doin just fine!

 

There are so many times I’ve found shit in there that I wanna share with other people, but Nat doesn’t like hikin or explorin or whatever all that much. I don’t have any other friends, either, so I just keep it to myself. You, though. You want to go do all those things, hell, you’ve never been in a fuckin forest before, how can I not share it with ya? It’s my lil special thing, But I want to show it to ya so badly. Is that weird? I feel like that’s weird. It probably is, but since when do I care?”

 

Bucky shifted in his seat nervously.

 

“If...if we’re being honest here, I was gonna try and buy the lot. I had some money put away and everything. To quote a great man I once knew, though: “It’s just a pipe dream”. It really was, too. Who has that kinda money? Besides you, I mean. Rich businessmen that wanna build houses and mow down the damn area so they can make more money off of their expensive-ass land.

 

Don’t feel bad about it, I can basically hear ya beating yourself up over it as we speak. The thing about it is that I thought some businessman bought it. I was a total asshole to your fiancee, she actually bitched me out over the phone. I was expecting her to be comin over here, so when I woke up late, Steve, I swear to ya, my heart fuckin stopped. When I called ya, I was so relieved. You sounded so nice and forgivin, I was like, you know what? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. God, when I got outta the car and saw you on that fuckin motorcycle, I was so happy. I finally got to see ya again, after all this time, and I knew, I just fuckin knew that you wouldn’t harm a single blade of grass on the land. So I’m actually real happy that it’s you.”

 

His heart was betraying him, flying from his chest and absolutely soaring. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only person who almost died of happiness when someone told him things like this.

 

‘You have no idea how happy that makes me.’

 

Bucky laughed and shook his head.

 

“Trust me when I say I do. I can hear it in your voice, and I’m sure it’s written all over your face, too.”

 

It’d been such a short time, and they’d both begun to learn each other’s quirks and mannerisms. Maybe it was leftover knowledge from college, but it was astounding to him.

 

‘I’d like to tell you that if you ever want to go onto the land and just walk around, or, you know, drive around, it’s completely okay with me. Under one condition: you have to take me with you.’

 

“Holy shit, are you serious?”

 

‘Of course I am. What the hell am I going to do with this much land with no one to explore with me? That’d be absolutely fucking pathetic, don’t you think?’

 

“Steve, I hope ya know that if I weren’t driving and ya weren’t hurt, I swear to fuckin god I would be givin ya the biggest fuckin hug known to mankind. Bigger than the spine snapping one Nat just gave me. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

 

Maybe he did. Some things meant the world to people, but Steve didn’t think he had that at the moment. He had a sneaking suspicion that after all the changes going on in his life right now, maybe that would change too. Steve wanted to be able to empathize with that.

 

Part of him thought that maybe it wasn’t just the land that meant this much to Bucky, it seemed like there was something else there that meant so much more. Steve hoped to god that it would be what they were going to go see.

 

They pulled into an area that went directly into the trees, and for a second, he was scared that they’d hit one head on. _Trust him trust him trust him trust him he knows what he’s doing._

 

The scary thing was that he already did trust him, with his life and then some.

 

He’d made the right choice, because carefully, the car turned right and stopped, right in front of a small golf cart, dark green, blending into the trees.

 

“I had to have it painted so that nobody would find it. The owners would come check in at least once a week, I’d have to park my car a mile or two away from here, hide it in the trees. After that, I’d walk down here, hop into the golf cart and jet into the forest. Every time, I’d have leaves and branches that I’d leave behind to cover up the path. Make sure they didn’t find it, ya know? It sounds complicated and kinda stupid, but hey, this shit’s important to me. Plus, I’m a goddamn architect, hell if I’m giving up my own wor-”

 

Bucky covered his mouth up immediately, as if he were holding back a secret. He swallowed it back up, keeping it from Steve’s ears.

 

“Whoops! Ya don’t get to see what I’m talkin bout til we get there. I’m gonna go start it up and drag your crippled ass into it. I never thought the seat belts would actually be useful, but I got em installed anyway. Thank fuck I did, right?”

 

‘Hell yeah. Can you imagine that? You would be talking to me as we would be driving along, and at one point you’d turn to me and I would be nowhere to be found.’

 

“Well, who’s to say I woulda done it on accident? Maybe I just wanted to get rid of ya!”

 

‘Oh, you know you couldn’t get rid of me. You like me way too much for that.’

 

The atmosphere changed very quickly, and so did Bucky’s facial expression. His face softened, eyes filled with longing and adoration. Steve needed to get HIS eyes checked, there was no way in hell that he was seeing things correctly.

 

“Yeah, I do. I couldn’t leave ya.”

 

He meant it with every fiber of his being, there was no doubting that.

 

‘You know what, Bucky?’

 

“Hmm?”

 

‘I couldn’t leave you either. I don’t think I’d ever want to.’

 

The tips of Bucky’s ears turned pink, slowly creeping its way down and dusting his cheeks. Steve would never get tired of seeing that. He wanted to make that happen all the time, just to see the look on his face. All he wanted to do was kiss him, entirely so he could see his face afterwards. Even if it ended in disaster, seeing that one time, at some point in time he would forget what it looked like, but his sketchbook never would.

 

Paper was funny like that, wasn’t it? No matter how many things you forgot, if you had it down on paper, if you’d put words or drawings, maybe even numbers, it would be there forever. There would be no end.

 

_Fire, water, decomposing. Bookworms, hatred, getting lost._

 

_**Stop.** _

 

None of those things would ever happen if you were careful. You take care of things like that, you take care of the things important to you. That’s why he took care of his mother’s ring, it’s why he took care of Peggy, why he now needed to take care of Bucky. The way he took care of Bucky, though, was by taking care of himself. Steve had seen the look on his face whenever he got hurt. It was as if Bucky had gotten hurt, except worse. Steve was sure that he would take a bullet for Steve, entirely so he wouldn’t have to see him in pain.

 

_But why?_

 

That was the main question he had. He didn’t know why, and he sure as hell couldn’t ask. What the hell would he even say? _Hey, I know I’m getting married and I’m pretty sure you have feelings for me **(and I reciprocate)** , but why am I so important to you? I wanna know just cause I’m curious and kind of bored._

 

Steve was being carried. There was absolutely no reason for him to be spacing out more and more every time, but it seemed to be happening. It was horribly aggravating, because every minute he spent in his head was a minute he spent being away from Bucky, technically. Steve buckled himself into the golf cart, not knowing how the fuck he knew where it was, or how he was in any way sentient at the current moment.

 

“Alright, all good? Is the belt loose? Is your leg comfortable? Is it digging into your side? Are you okay?”

 

‘Jesus, Buck, I’m fine. The seat belt isn’t going to kill me. And if it tries to, trust me when I say you’d know. I’m pretty vocal about shit like that. I don’t want to die just yet.’

 

_Did he really mean that?_

 

Holy shit, he really meant that this time. Steve didn’t want to die just yet. He’d gone from being fine with flying off a motorcycle and dying via either hitting the floor or laying in a mangled mess for who knows how long until he breathed his last breath, cold and alone.

 

_Is this what being happy is?_

_Do happy people want to live? I sure as fuck do hope so, because I want to live, and I’m pretty sure I’m happy right now. Being with him makes me happy, being with Bucky makes me happy. Just him existing makes me happy, and I pretend he doesn’t, but that’s a lie, it’s all a lie._

 

“Okay, we’re gonna start movin now, Stevie. The sky’s cleared up mostly. It looks nice, and what’s left of the sun looks real nice through the trees.”

 

The cart started moving, just as Bucky had said it would, and at that moment, Steve decided that as soon as he got better, he was coming back out here and begging Bucky to let him drive this damn thing around all two hundred acres of land.

 

‘It smells so nice out here.’

 

“Oh god, I know. After it rains, and it’s not muddy and gross anymore, the air smells so nice. Pine and eucalyptus trees are all over this area. Both of them plus the mulch mixed together? It’s like actual fucking heaven. I could probably fuckin nut entirely because of the smell.”

 

‘Holy hell, Buck. I did NOT take you as the kind of person to have a tree kink. Should I be worried? Let me give you a piece of advice, if you’re going to fuck a tree, make sure it isn’t one with a bunch of bark. Try one of those that sheds in the winter, so it’s nice and smooth. That might work.’

 

“Steve, please tell me you aren’t encouraging a tree kink right now. If you are, then I think I should be the one that’s worried here. How the fuck do you know this much about fucking a tree?”

 

‘Alright, you know what? You don’t get to judge me. Are you kinkshaming me? I went through a phase, okay? You don’t understand, Bucky, this isn’t a phase, this is who I really am!!’

 

They were in fucking stitches, both of them. He was almost worried that they’d go off the path. Tears were coming from his eyes, and he was pretty sure he was growing a new six pack.

 

“I fuckin love talkin to ya. You always know exactly how to make my day.

 

ANYWAY, as I was SAYING before someone interrupted, it gets really really nice after it rains. I just try not to drive around for a day or two after it does. Even though there’s a lot of mulch, I don’t want to risk gettin stuck. Nat wouldn’t know where the hell I was, and getting the cart out of the mud is not a fun job. If I really really try, I can do it, but it puts a lot of stress on my arm. Before you ask, yes, on the metal one too.”

 

Steve was enraptured by the scenery. This was all he’d ever wanted and more. Bucky was going slowly so that he wouldn’t miss a single thing

 

The trees were huge, towering over him, which was new due to his dumb ass being tall as hell. Plush green moss grew on their bark, and of course, he had to make Bucky stop several times so he could reach out just to touch it and pet it. How the hell could he go without doing that?

 

On top of it all, some of them had both moss and little mushrooms of all kinds sprouting up from all the little nooks and crannies in the tree. It was incredible to him how determined they were, that they planted themselves in one spot, no matter how tight, and refused to move. Each of them was a miniature fuck you to the outside world.

 

There were spotted red ones, like you’d see in the movies, ones that grew in little clumps, a group of tiny fuck yous. Others looked like fish gills, some with flat tops, he even saw one with a white body and a glorious sunset purple top. Steve reached out to touch so many, only to be chastised by Bucky every time.

 

“Don’t fuckin touch them! They’re poisonous, and if ya absentmindedly stick a goddamn finger in your mouth, we’re gonna be goin to the hospital for the second time today!”

 

The dragonflies were amazing. He loved them. How were there so many different colors? Some were a pale blue, so pale you’d almost think they were white. Green, pure white, red, orange, pink. They reminded him of the colors he was always feeling.

 

At that moment, his entire existence was an excited piercing white blue, Bucky’s eyes blue, almost silver. It cut through every bad feeling, was absolutely exhilarating to him.

 

Bucky seemed to understand that talking to him at the moment was not an option. Or rather, he knew that Steve needed this for himself. When he would excitedly point something out to the other man, or ask him to stop so he could see a flower or bug, he would respond just as excitedly, and gladly slow the cart to a stop, put it in reverse if he needed to, entirely so Steve could see what he wanted to see.

 

While Steve was completely gone to the world, staring at all the new things in wonder, Bucky was all there. He too, was looking at all the gorgeous things before him. He only had eyes for Steve. Seeing him this happy, this excited _(happier and more passionate than he’d seen him since college)_ , it made his heart nearly beat straight out of his goddamn chest.

 

He couldn’t have him, but he got to see this side of him. His fiancee may have gotten to him first, but he was the one who had Steve’s laughter and happiness.

 

Bucky thought he could stay happy with that, no matter how hard he was falling.

 

Steve nearly fell from the cart almost a million times. The seat belt wasn’t enough to keep him in, so Bucky ended up holding Steve by his left arm, making sure his ass stayed planted right in his goddamn seat, just as stuck as the mushrooms were to the tree.

 

He thought that his wonder and amazement would have faded by now, but his desire to come back out here and draw each and every last detail, every leaf, stick, and single spiderweb strings? It only got worse and worse.

 

‘Could we come back out here soon? Do you think that would be okay, Buck?’

 

Bucky threw him a scandalized look, as if Steve had just spit on his mother’s grave.

 

“The hell do you mean ‘would that be okay’?? No shit it’d be okay!! I’d love to take you out here as many times as I fuckin can, dollface. Seein ya like this is great. I’m pretty sure it’d be even better to see ya out here with your sketchbook. I wanna see ya draw everything.”

 

‘It’d be boring, though. You’d have to stop and stay there until I’d be done drawing every last detail of everything.’

 

“Like I said, I wanna see ya draw everything. I’ve always loved seein ya draw, darlin.”

 

‘That’s right, huh? You’d sit and watch me sketch Peggy. I think still have some little paintings and sketches of you somewhere.’

 

It seemed to make Bucky happy, surprised even. Steve thought that one day soon, he’d want to go hiking with the other man, have him show Steve every single new thing in the forest, things familiar to Bucky. Would his eyes light up, would he excitedly babble on and on about it all, share it all with Steve, try to make him happy? Would he sit, entranced, watching every brushstroke or pencil mark he made on the paper, curious as to what it’d turn out to be?

 

Most of all, Steve knew this one thing for sure. They’d both make their way down the path, both wanting to see and know more about everything around them, including the person beside them. When he’d realized this, he didn’t know. If it scared him, he didn’t care at that moment. All he saw was the bashful smile on a beautiful man’s face.

 

“You really kept em? I ain’t someone to put down on paper, much less someone to keep somethin like that of. Ya don’t need those memories.”

 

‘Last I checked, you were the one who kept all of the drawings and paintings I left behind at school. I’m pretty sure you even have some inside of your house, hanging on the walls, right?’

 

There was no response to that but an annoyed and resigned huff. Yeah, Steve would be fine if they got lost out here and had to stay with each other for who knows how long. Maybe then he would never have to stop telling him about himself and learning about Bucky.

 

“Okay, that’s true, but it’s completely different! They ain’t of you!”

 

‘Are you trying to tell me that if they’d been a painting of me, you wouldn’t have kept it? If you can look me in the eyes and truthfully tell me that, maybe then I’ll believe you. But I know for a fact that that’s a lie.’

 

“Hey Stevie, look at that caterpillar!!”

 

It was small and green, with cute orange and white spots on its body. They looked like little bullseyes all over it. The fascinating thing about it, though, was that it was slowly but surely making itself into a cocoon. He’d never seen anything like it before, never even known exactly how they did it. Of course, he had always been extremely curious about it, who wouldn’t?

 

‘Holy shit! Can we stay and watch?? How long do you think that it’s going to take? Would it be okay to sit and watch? It looks like it’s almost done, Bucky!! It’s so fucking cool, oh my god. I’ve never seen anything like this before, have you? How long is it going to take it to turn into a butterfly?’

 

“Yeah, nerd, we can definitely stay here and watch it. I’ve never seen them do that before either. I think it’ll take a while for it to turn into a butterfly, but I’m not completely sure.”

 

It was twitching and shaking, trying desperately to start the process of changing, growing wings and flying. He really couldn’t blame him, if he had the ability to fly away, he probably would.

 

Would he, though?

 

Two weeks ago he would have said yes. Right now? Right now he was thinking that he’d stay, unless he could bestow the gift of wings on Bucky too.

 

It sounded ridiculous, but they could both become faeries, flitting from leaf to leaf. Even in that state, Steve was sure that Bucky would know so much more about everything here than he did. Like that, learning about it all would be so much easier, wouldn’t it? What would their wings look like? His might be black, spattered with paint, millions of different colors, as if he’d taken a paint brush and splattered it all over. Steve wished he could say he wouldn’t, but the fact of the matter was that he would definitely, one hundred percent do that.

 

As for Bucky, his would be beautiful. They’d be iridescent, a silvery pink, like a sea of mercury. He would have enormous ones, able to take Steve and fly him up higher than his own wings could ever take him. It’d be a whole new world for him, but he wouldn’t mind. Even with the possibility of being dropped all the way down to the floor like a rock, he knew he’d be safe. Bucky always could show him new things with no problem, and they’d always be fantastic, amazing things.

 

Only the caterpillar’s little head was peeking out at this point, it seemed so happy to almost be sleeping, to take a break from endlessly eating, simply sleep it all off and emerge beautiful. Steve noticed that he had begun to relate to it. Are you okay? You’re relating to a fucking bug, man.

 

He was trying to grow his wings, right now. It would take a little while, sure, but god was he trying like hell for it to be soon. Of course, in the meantime, Bucky was holding his weight, taking him to new heights and making sure he grew safe and sound. No harm would come to him as long as he trusted.

 

Before either of them knew it, the brave little guy had finished, stopped moving desperately. Finally, he could rest easy for as long as he damn well pleased. Steve had to resist the urge to touch the cocoon. It looked so smooth and cool.

 

“We should come back here to check up on him every so often, huh? I’m sure you’re gonna wanna draw him, too, right?”

 

‘Fuck yes I do.’

 

“I’ll be sure to have ya bring your supplies up here next time. That way ya can get every single thing stuffed in there in as few trips as possible. That’s not to say that we ain’t comin up here once you’ve got all the shit ya just saw down. Just that ya gotta do it quickly before all those things die off or in this case, flit away into the sunset. There’s always gonna be somethin new, trust me, sweetcheeks.”

 

The cart turned back on, ready to keep going on it’s little adventure, taking them with it.

 

“You ready to keep goin? It ain’t that far away from here, I swear.”

 

‘I don’t know what it is! If you’d tell me, I’d probably be telling you to go a lot faster than we are right now, you know that, right?’

 

“Definitely, but where the hell’s the fun in that? It’s gotta be a surprise, but it’s a really good one, you’re gonna fuckin love it, Stevie.”

 

Every time Bucky mentioned it, eagerness rolled off of him in waves, filling Steve with anticipation and excitement. He seemed so proud of whatever he was talking about, and it was driving him absolutely insane not knowing exactly what it was. Hell, he had no clue whatsoever about what it was.

 

‘Fine, fine. Keep going, I want to see it now!!’

 

“Ya know they say patience is a virtue, right?”

 

‘Looks like I haven’t been blessed with it quite yet, so let’s get this fucking show on the road already!! Hurry!!’

 

With that, the forest began to pass them by once more. He’d never get over the smell that filled the car(t) whenever a breeze picked up. It soothed him, it was a very happy scent. Steve wanted to put it into a bottle and take it back to the apartment with him, so whenever he’d have a moment that he felt bad, it’d be right there to make everything go away. No wonder people made candles trying to imitate the smell, everyone wanted to escape their miserable lives. Did he blame them? Definitely not, because he was one of the poor fucks that wanted to do the exact same thing that they did.

 

The trees were slowly thinning out, much to Steve’s dismay. Not only that, but they seemed to be slowing down the further they got.

 

‘Why are we going so slowly?’

 

“Because I’m an asshole and wanna drag this shit out as long as humanly possible, duh.”

 

‘Buckyyyyy, come on! You promised we’d see whatever you’re talking about soon. Soon doesn’t mean whenever my asshole friend decides to speed the hell up and quit messing with me!’

 

“Alright, whatever! You asked for it.”

 

Expecting a huge increase in speed, Steve clutched the seat in a desperate attempt to stay rooted there. Much to his dismay _(annoyance)_ , Bucky slowed down even more. Slowly turning his head to look at him, he shot Bucky a deadly glare. It only managed to get a laugh out of him.

 

“Jesus, you’re adorable. I’ll do it just for you, sweetie. It’s cause I like ya so much.”

 

Steve hated it when people ruffled his hair, but surprisingly enough, when the other man did it, blue eyes almost disappearing as they squinted from how large his grin was, he was more than okay with it. In fact, it made his flutter and his stomach do a flip. You should really get that checked out. He might be the thing that makes all your internal organs fucking explode from happiness, causing you a really unpleasant death _(if it was because of happiness, would it really be that bad?)._ He actually seemed to like it, but only when Bucky did it.

 

Anything Bucky did made him happy. He could have been an assassin for half of his life, and he wouldn’t have minded. In fact, he probably would fend off anyone who tried to go after him afterwards, no matter what else it cost him. At one point, like he’d just told himself, he’d probably drop dead entirely because of all the shit his feelings caused his organs to do. His hard drive would be fried, but it’d definitely be worth it. The only way he saw that happening was if finally, finally, he got to steal a kiss from him.

 

But that wasn’t happening anytime soon, so he was stuck living his life _(which was no longer such a bad thing, as long as he was around Bucky)._

 

“Hey Stevie, we’re comin up on it here. Can ya do me a huge favor?”

 

‘Depends on what it is. Is there any tree fucking involved?’

 

“That’s up to you, ya kinky fuck. First ya wanna bite my arm, now ya wanna bang a tree? Jesus christ.”

 

Bucky seemed to like ruffling his hair. Was it just so he could mess with him, or did he just want an excuse to touch Steve in some way that would definitely make butterflies pop up in his stomach _(shit, so that’s where the cocoon’s gonna go)_?

 

“Since it looks like I’m gonna have to start clearin this shit up, weirdly enough, no, it does not involve fucking trees. I was just wonderin if ya could cover or close your eyes for me. I want it to be a surprise. I’ll be pickin ya up at some point, but I’ll tell ya before I do, so would that be alright?”

 

‘Sure, as long as you quit being such a pain in the ass and actually show me what you actually dragged me all the way out here to see.’

 

“Oh boo fuckin hoo, I can see that it’s been absolute torture bein out here and gettin to see everythin, right? I’m so sorry, lemme turn back and we can go home right now, hmm?”

 

‘Don’t you dare.’

 

“Then quit bitchin and just close your damn eyes, or I sure as hell will do exactly that. Ya don’t wanna test me, sweetcheeks, it ain’t gonna end too well for you.”

 

He exaggeratedly winked over at Steve, who was pouting simply to make a point. It was difficult to keep from laughing or smiling, and he was sure that despite his efforts, said smile was still somewhat spreading across his dumbass face.

 

‘Ugh, whatever.’

 

And so, he closed his eyes, everything around him going dark.

 

Usually, this would have caused him to flip his shit. This was a different environment, though. Steve felt safe, in every sense of the word. He knew no harm would come to him, he’d been promised that he wouldn’t be. If it would have been any other person, he would have called bullshit and shied away, run away as quickly as humanly possible, because that’s just what he did, right? Not with Bucky. He trusted him with his life, keeping his eyes closed so the other man could show him the surprise he was so eager for him to see was a small feat that he could definitely fulfill.

 

Footsteps were coming near him just after the cart stopped and turned off. Soon, there was a voice directly next to him.

 

“I’m gonna pick ya up now, dollface, is that okay with you?”

 

Steve loved hearing his voice, with his eyes closed, it was as if it was the only thing in the world.

 

‘Yes. Come on, I want to see this thing that has you so excited. It feels like I’ve been waiting a goddamn century!!’

 

The only response he got was him being lifted into the air, and Bucky beginning to walk. It was comfortable and familiar, maybe even soothing.

 

A million things were going through his head all at once. The man holding him was the only thing keeping him rooted in reality at this point, and Steve wasn’t sure how to react to that.

 

He was ecstatic to be here with Bucky, but there was always the lingering wish that Peggy would be with them too.

 

_Would you really?_

 

That alone almost made his eyes snap open in surprise. What the hell did he mean, would he really? Of course he would, right?

 

The realization that he’d rather be here with Bucky hit him like a kick to the stomach. It hurt, not as much as it should have, but of course it still did. For fuck’s sake, he had wanted to marry her. He loved, no, loves her.

 

_What was different about this one??_

 

**_Almost everything, that’s what._ **

 

He was his own person, vastly different from anyone else. That was one of the things that made Steve’s heart beat a little faster every time. His eyes were bright and knowing, any time he locked eyes with Bucky, it felt like he knew exactly what Steve was thinking. Just him existing caused Steve to be happier, he didn’t even need to be around Bucky.

 

All he knew was that Bucky made him happy in so many different ways. There were similarities, sure, but a lot of the familiarity was due to them having gone to school together and having made memories along with Peggy. Their quirks were both unique, Bucky being more goofy, Peggy being absolutely careless when it came to following rules. In this case, she wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to hide the cart. If anyone would have found her, fine. She’d fight like hell and talk circles around them, setting her arguments up so that no matter what either of them said, her sassy ass would win.

 

As for Bucky, he was careful to not get caught, trying to avoid any trouble. Sure, if someone were to stumble upon him, he’d act as if he’d simply gotten lost in the forest with his little golf cart and was trying to make his way out. Instead of arguing and talking, he’d simply bat his blue eyes or show off a flash of his metal arm to charm whoever it was into letting him go with absolutely no protest or hassle.  

 

The list of shit like this went on and on and on for miles and miles, with no end in sight. If Bucky really could look into his head, this was around the time where he’d tell Steve to stop being a dummy and worry less. Maybe he should take the advice of the Bucky inside of his head _(are you alright? A Bucky inside your head? We might need to go back to the hospital to get your head checked out.)_

“Steve, I’m about to show ya that surprise. You’re gonna lean your right side up against me and stand on your left leg, kay? Ya need to be standin to see this.”

 

All he had to do was make a happy noise and smile for Bucky to take that as a green light and put him down. Steve was ridiculous levels of excited at the moment. What the hell could be so special that he’d have to wait so damn long to see it?

 

“You good?”

 

‘YES! FUCK’S SAKE, JUST SHOW ME THE THING PLEASE!’

 

“Fuckin dork. Open your eyes.”

 

Bucky sounded nervous, was nervous mixed with anticipation, though, only making him more curious. Steve didn’t understand why at all.

 

Well, at least not until he opened his goddamn eyes.

  
_**Holy McFucking Shit™** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done with NaNoWriMo, I've got two days left!!! I swear on my life, I'm gonna fuckin FINISH THIS!!!!
> 
> I just want to thank you all for your kind words and comments, I'm not lying when I say that they've helped motivate and inspire me this month. 
> 
> After this month is over, I'm hoping to keep writing this until I finish the whole damn thing off. I've gotta get this done, not just for you guys, but for me too. I love these characters so much, and I want to see where they take me s o badly. 
> 
> Anyway, gushy feeling time over, comments keep me going. Again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NATZYWOO83!!!!! <3 <3


	18. Is That The Kind Of Way To Face The Burning Heat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO FINISHED NANOWRIMO LAST WEDNESDAY
> 
> ITS YA BOIIIIIII
> 
> I'm so McFucking pumped, y'all, so enjoy today's chapter like hell!!!!!

There was a house in front of him. 

 

An extremely beautiful house. Unfinished, but gorgeous nonetheless.

 

There was a fucking house in the middle of the forest, trees in front of them, yet if you strained to see, stood on your tiptoes, you could see what looked like a lake. The noise of rushing, crashing, falling water promised at least a small waterfall. There was a view of  _ EVERYTHING _ , the gorgeous green pine trees, some eucalyptus mingling with them here and there. The sun glistened on what little you could see of the lake, giving the entire picture an ethereal glow  _ (The most beautiful thing here is still Bucky) . _

 

It looked like an upsized log cabin, but better. It wasn’t logs so much as multiple long and somewhat thin panels of well worn wood going all around the house. There were two stories, and from here, he was ninety percent sure that there was a window seat on the second floor. The windows faced the lake, giving anyone inside a perfect view, straight across the water. The lake wasn’t huge, just large enough to be perfectly paired up with the house. He wasn’t sure if his ears deceived him until he strained his eyes a bit, only to see that the lake happened to have a small waterfall at the top. 

 

What enraptured him were the windows. They were huge and clear, it was almost as if there was nothing there at all. I mean, maybe nothing was there, he wouldn’t put it past Bucky to do that, but seeing as the inside of the house didn’t look like it was still soaking wet due to the recent rainfall, he assumed that they were in place. The aging steps going up to the cabin were like five or six somewhat long platforms, not steep at all, giving you some room for error. Those led to a weathered patio  _ (set your canvas up there it’s perfect) _ , which contained a little fire pit and two chairs next to each other on it.  Only one looked like it got any use, the other was in pristine condition, completely untouched. The patio itself looked like it was the only thing on the house that was 100% done. It’d been polished and painted and sealed, spotless and beautiful, much cleaner looking than the rest of the cabin. While it still looked aged, Steve was sure that Bucky had done that on purpose to keep it in what he assumed was its original condition.

 

Steve wanted to sit there and paint, with Bucky by his side, making models of the houses he loved so much. He’d make them both coffee, or tea, or hot cocoa  (that’s a good idea. You can make some pretty good hot cocoa)  to keep them warm in the winter. In the summer, when the yellow-bellied flycatchers and bluebirds were hopping from branch to branch, he’d bring them lemonade, the perfect balance between sweet and tart. Steve wanted to share that part of his childhood with Bucky, allow him to be a part of the new, fresh memories he seemed to be making a lot lately. Maybe this was why Bucky had finished this up first, because he needed an escape from everything.

 

Could he blame him? If he’d had a chance like this, he would take it in a fucking heartbeat, probably less. To be able to walk into your own world and stay there with nobody else there to bother you, that would be incredible, perfect, amazing  _ (just like Bucky). _ Wouldn't it eventually get lonely, without anyone? Not for Steve, probably. God, it was pathetic how used to being alone he was. After everything, being with someone else the past few days  _ (for what felt like an eternity, a wonderful eternity. Almost like heaven) _ , maybe he wouldn't be able to go back to never not being alone. 

 

He wasn't being completely fair. Steve wasn't alone all the time, there was always Sharon there for him.  _ (Jesus christ, that's actually worse than being alone) .  _

 

That may have been why he never left his studio, why his room was in pristine condition, untouched  _ (minus the dust collecting on everything inside of it, of course) _ _._ Sharon was someone to be avoided, the kind of person you would see on the street and walk across the street to get away from her, simply due to the furious, dark blue eyes staring straight through you. At first, all you’d feel around her would be happiness and contentment, but as the time went by, she became the person hidden not so deep inside of her.  

 

_ You know this, so why don't you just leave? The door's right there, you can easily kick her out on her ass. _

 

So why couldn’t he? That was the question he’d had stuck in his head for longer than he could remember, whether or not he remembered it. From the second she wormed her way into his life to now, that had always lingered in the back of his mind. Why was it that he’d just noticed it now? Why had it just become important? 

 

Right then and there, Steve did what he did best. He blocked his thoughts with a mental wall, then pretended nothing had ever happened. Like he said, he was pretty damn good at that  _ (if you keep building walls, you’re eventually going to run out of room) . _

 

So he shook it off and moved on.

 

All the new memories he’d been making lately hadn’t replaced his old ones, they simply walked up alongside them and walked through his mind, hand in hand. _Like what you wish you’d be able to do with him?_ **_( shut up.)_**The funny thing about it was that it could make his old memories happy and new. They’d started cheering up, and instead of bringing him negativity, the edges were always glowing excitedly, trying to revive the good feelings they used to contain.

 

“Do ya like it, Stevie?”

 

His jaw snapped shut  _ (when the hell had it dropped open? Had he been sitting here like an idiot this whole time, just staring with my mouth wide open?) _ as he turned to Bucky with wide eyes, mouth spreading into an overjoyed grin.

 

‘Do I like it? What the fuck do you mean, do I like it? I fucking LOVE it!! When the hell did this get here?!’

 

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, seemingly pleased with Steve’s reaction. Fuck, he wanted to pull him over for a kiss right _here_ and right **_NOW_** _(engaged engaged en- **does that even fucking matter to him anymore?** **).**_   _That wasn’t possible, though._ _But why? To save Sharon the pain she’d have to go through? **Would she even feel a thing?**_

 

There was nothing in the fucking rulebook preventing him from giving Bucky an enormous hug, though. Steve was already being held up on one side by him, so he just threw his other arm around Bucky, moving the other one down to join in once he balanced himself correctly on his leg. 

 

This caught Bucky by surprise, that much was obvious. Usually, the brunette didn’t miss a single beat, yet this alone looked like it had flustered him. It took him a bit to fully react, slowly wrapping his arms around Steve, pulling him in as close as he could. He buried his face into Steve’s chest, and now it was his turn to be caught off guard. He wondered if Bucky could hear his heart beating faster and faster with each passing second. The one thing he was thankful for was that he couldn’t see Steve’s face heating. One downside to that was that he couldn’t look over at Bucky’s face  _ (couldn’t kiss him) _ , couldn’t see his eyes. 

 

Somehow, he felt like this was almost better than a kiss, for now. It wasn’t just a hug. There was...something else there. He couldn’t tell what, but it made his heart race.  _ Keep that up and it’s going to stop and you’re gonna drop dead halfway into this. Chill out, dumbass. _

 

Neither of them wanted to be the one to pull away first, instead, he heard a muffled voice speaking from his chest. It was indecipherable, he wasn’t even sure if Bucky was speaking in english at this point.

 

‘Hey, Buck? I have no fucking clue what you’re saying.”

 

Someone huffed into his chest  _ (that was uncomfortable, warm, and unexpected. Let’s not do that again) _ .  The other man’s head turned so that he could both speak and breathe.

 

“Do ya wanna go sit on the porch? There’s two seats, I only use one.”

 

‘Of course I do, goddamn nerd.’

 

The bad news was that they had to let go of each other. The good news was that the bad news was not 100% true. Bucky still hefted him right back up with no problems, and this time it was his turn to bury his face into Bucky’s neck. 

 

‘So how the fuck did this get here?’

 

He knew what the probable answer was, of course. Steve knew just how much Bucky loved working, and had seen some of the little models he had at his apartment. What else could it possibly be?

 

“Well, let’s sit down first, it’s not a  _ really _ long story or anything, but ya gotta rest your leg.”

 

‘Just tell me as we get up there, you ass. I’ve waited long enough, pleeeaaaassseee?’

 

Huffing, Bucky just kept walking up the steps, no matter how much Steve complained.

 

“Don’t make me drop ya, trust me, I won’t fuckin hesitate!!”

 

‘The fuck you won’t. You and I both know you would never do that.’

 

No reaction.

 

“I found an old lil place here. Definitely wasn’t this big, I added the second floor myself. I actually added a fuckton of this stuff myself. 

 

Ya know, I’m just supposed to be an architect, but I like to help out during the building process too. Not to mention, when I was younger, my Pa and I built our new house ourself.  That’s when I knew I wanted to be what I am today, when he had me draw up what I’d like the house to look like. When I handed it to him, Pops’ eyebrows went all the way up into his goddamn hairline. Funnily enough, that was the design he used for the house. Building and designing the house we lived in, my own damn house, was the best fuckin experience I’ve ever had. He was so proud of me too, my Pa. Never stopped reminding me that I made the house. _ ‘I helped build it, but you, you were the one who really made it, Buckaroo.’,  _ That’s what he’d say to me.”

 

Bucky set him down on the seat and scooted his right up next to Steve’s. Steve cautiously put his hand over Bucky’s, relaxing when a lazy, happy smile spread across his face. He sat back and looked out at the endless trees and water. 

 

“A lot of the time, I wish he’d have been here to see where I went with my life, I really do. But Stevie, I know he woulda been so proud of me. Every time I remember that, I feel all better. Turns the sad right into happy. 

 

So when I was lookin around here in the dark ages, before I got the golf cart, I was always gettin lost. I already told ya that, though. One day, I heard water and went towards it, because water’s always a good sign, right? Waterfalls are gorgeous, I love em. I hope you do too. 

 

Anyways, I was all banged up because my dumb ass fell into a patch of blackberry brambles. In case ya haven’t had that experience, I wouldn’t recommend it. The berries aren’t worth it and the thorns are like fuckin knives, you touch it and it cuts ya real goddamn deep. That’s where the scar on my cheek and lip are from. I wish it was a more badass story, but no, no. I’m just an idiot and fell into the plant equivalent of barbed wire.”

 

He didn’t know when, but Steve’s hand hand had betrayed him, lifting up to Bucky’s cheek and gently brushing his fingers across the thin, white scar. He pressed into Steve’s touch, closing his eyes in an attempt to amplify the feeling, have it spread through the rest of his body, from his head to his toes.

 

At the realization of what he was doing, he pulled his hand back quickly. Bucky’s eyes slowly opened, piercing blue staring over at him.

 

“I have one on my lip too, you know.”

 

That smug-ass smile always caused shit. Steve was competitive, he knew it, Bucky knew it, he hated it, but fuck if Bucky didn’t absolutely love it. Ages ago, he would always egg him on and pull shit like this, just to indirectly challenge him. He wished he could say that it didn’t work, but he would be lying through his teeth.

 

Steve’s eyes lowered to Bucky’s lips. There was a scar there, he knew it, and Bucky knew that he knew. Too much of his time was spent staring down at his lips, and from the looks of it, the other man had definitely noticed. All it was was an extremely thin and small white scar on the edge of his bottom lip. That was it. He could ignore that and just turn back to the view  _ (yeah, but can you really? Your competitive ass can’t do that) . _

 

**_ God fucking dammit Steve, don’t do this. You can fight it. You can ignore him. _ **

 

Yes he could. He was strong enough to do it.

 

**_ That’s the spirit! _ **

 

He could, but he wouldn’t.  _ (Let’s fucking goooo) _

 

**_ WAIT N- _ **

 

To him, Bucky had issued a challenge. He didn’t think Steve would accept it. Well, he was very mistaken.

 

He trailed his fingers down the side of Bucky’s face, from his cheek down to his lips. Wide eyes were staring back at him, shocked and taken off-guard. Once more, he betrayed himself, ignoring every last bit of advice he’d ever given himself  _ (well, it was bound to happen anyway) .  _

 

Looking intently down at his lips, Steve lightly brushed his finger across the bottom one, completely forgetting that there was a scar there, that that was the whole reason behind this  _ (was it really?) _ _._ Bucky’s lips parted slightly, and Steve could practically feel his heart beating a million miles a second, even from over here. 

 

Bucky’s cherry chapstick lips were just as soft as he always thought they’d be, what would they feel like pressed against his? How far was he willing to go right now?

 

Diving in headfirst had always been his thing, it was just what he did. Kind of like a geico commercial.  _ If you’re Steve Rogers, you do stupid shit you haven’t thought through at the flip of a dime. It’s what you do. _ Now wouldn’t be a good time for that. That’s what he kept telling himself. If it wasn’t the right time, then why the hell did he want to kiss this dumbass so badly?

 

So he simply let go and moved back. One thing he wouldn’t do, though, was to let go of Bucky’s other hand. For now, that was his. At least he could have that without feeling  _ (too) _ guilty.

 

It wasn’t awkward, thankfully. If anything, they both seemed a bit happier for it. Slightly disappointed, but happier. Clearing his throat, Bucky squeezed his hand lightly.

 

“What was I sayin again?”

 

‘Uhh...the blackberry briars. You were all scratched up. Hence the scars.’

 

The smug smile seemed to be infectious, because now he was the one wearing it. The only response he got was an eye roll, all in good nature.

  
“Let’s start the story back up from there, then, why don't we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, disappointing news. Now that nano is over, I'm not going to be writing as often, and not nearly as much as I was before (probably). 
> 
> What I'm saying is that we're going back to one update each week. I'm so sorry!!! I can already hear the disappointed moans and groans. I love you all so much and I wish I could write faster, that I had more time to write!!
> 
> But, as I've said before, comments motivate me more than they probably should. Speaking of, thank you all so much for your kind words!!! They push me to keep writing, so thank you all <3 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, until next week!!


	19. In The Low Lamp Light I Was Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN SO LONG SO JUST HAVE AN EXTRA LONG CHAPTER

“Anyway, I’m all torn up, way less than you are, by the way. I ain’t that stupid. My legs were takin me somewhere, I didn’t know where, so I just trusted them. Word to the wise, don’t just trust your legs all on their own. That’s dumb as shit. I learned what dirt tastes like that day. 

 

I looked up from my bitchin meal of forest floor, this is what I saw. Well, not exactly this. It was a lot different. One story, maybe one goddamn window in the whole house. The whole house, Steve!! Who the fuck can live like that? Jesus, it ain’t like anyone’s gonna be spyin on you out here except the damn animals.”

 

‘I’ve heard that deer are notorious peeping toms.’

 

“Oh can it, smartass. 

 

On top of all of that, no porch, no overhang, no nothin. It was like the bottom part, but a box. A literal box with a window and a flat roof. 

 

When I saw it, though, all the lil gears in my head started turnin. My brain was mappin out an entirely new house, bigger and better, but still keepin the old stuff. Why would I scrap somethin like this? I had to make sure it wasn’t half eaten by termites, of course, but other than that, it was a canvas. Yeah, a canvas! A blank slate, and you can do ANYTHIN ya want with it. Manipulate it this way and that until you’ve got exactly what ya want. 

 

The inside was nasty, though. I had to gut it and put in insulation, ‘cause without it I’d fuckin freeze to death in the winter when I came down here. Wait, I’m gettin ahead of myself, hold the fuck up.

 

Lemme get back on track. I saw a blank slate. My ass ran back to the car, drove home faster than I ever have, probably. Gettin home was awesome for me, I stumbled in through the door, learned what my carpet tastes like. It was an interesting day for my taste buds. Ain’t even gonna lie, I had never been happier to see my artsy shit than I was at that moment. The fact that I was practically bleedin out because of that damn plant didn’t even matter to me at that point, I just had to let my pen beam my ideas from my brain directly onto the paper, do ya know what I mean?”

 

He nodded, because he knew exactly what he meant. Steve wondered if he also knew about colors, if he could see it all too.

 

“Of course ya do, damn. We’re both artists, huh? I’m like a discount you! You’re my more talented, stunningly gorgeous counterpart!”

 

Fucking christ, if he kept this up, he really would be diving in headfirst before either of them could even think.

 

‘Well, that makes you beautiful too, doesn’t it?’

 

“Nah, you’re the gorgeous counterpart, remember?”

 

‘I’m pretty sure an artist knows beauty when he sees it.’

 

A nervous laugh bubbled out of the man next to him.

 

“If ya say it’s true, I’ll try and believe it. I swear, doll, you could tell me the sky is green and I’d believe it. If it makes you happy, why the hell not?”

 

It was at that moment that it dawned on Steve. He was definitely not the only one who had developed feelings here  _ (excellent observation, Watson. No, really, tell me more shit I already knew) _ . If he’d just been denying it or he was really that dense and oblivious, who the fuck knew, but what he knew was that he had no idea what to do. That was what he’d been seeing for the past while, in his eyes, his body language, his way of being. Bucky’s blue eyes went soft around him, he relaxed and always tended to lean a bit towards him, as if he  _ had _ to get closer in some way, if only to be next to him. 

 

This was why he was so protective, why he looked like he needed to help Steve get out of the situation he was in  _ (but Sharon would make sure she was here to stay) _ . Everything came down to this. Bucky had feelings for him  _ (and he had feelings for Bucky, but that was completely beside the point) _ . 

 

There was nothing he could say at that moment, and you’d think his eyes would bug out, he’d snatch his hand back, go running for the hills. Instead, he melted into Bucky’s touch, his hand on his being all he needed to go lax and be relieved of nearly every bad feeling and nagging thought that plagued him.

 

Bucky didn’t need a response, apparently. Somehow, he looked pleased by Steve’s lack of a reply. Maybe in some way, he did answer. Hopefully him and his dumb blue eyes and stupid fluffy brown hair understood whatever he’d said more than he understood it. 

 

“We keep gettin real off track, huh? You always find a way to derail my train of thought. Damn you, Rogers. 

 

Back to my amazing story, I just drew that whole night. And the whole day after, and that night, and the next night, so on and so forth. The finished product was what you see here, except on paper. And a few days later, on a miniature model of it. It was to scale and everything. Can ya believe that? I didn’t even have the measurements and yet I managed to make it to scale. Fate had decreed that I had to build this house. At least that’s how I saw it, how I still see it. 

 

I told ya that I was saving up for this lot, yeah? The house came first, for some reason. Instead of saving up and buying the plot of land itself, I used the money on building a house on property that ain’t mine. Building, renovating, whatever you wanna call it, it was a stupid decision any way you look at it. 

 

This took me so long. It’s been over a year, immediately after I got this stupid fuckin arm. Only reason I had the money for it was because Nat convinced me to sue the fuck outta the guy who hit me. Turns out he was workin for the douche who put this thing on me, did I tell ya that? Hey, don’t look at me like that, I forgot about this part, damn. Basically, they caught em both and I got a hell of a lot of money from them. Still wasn’t enough to buy the lot, so I said fuck it and just started building shit all by myself. Kept it quiet, too. Only Nat and I, and now you know about it. The people I trust most get to know about this. 

 

Wait, you own this fuckin property. I keep forgettin that. I swear I ain’t just takin ya places here so I can take your land, I woulda taken you out here regardless. I just thought you’d like it.

 

But like, it was difficult draggin windows and shit all the way over here to put em in. Hell if I know how I managed it. Probably thanks to this hunk of junk I call an arm. I love it, but I hate it too. This house let me learn how to love it, in a way. Let me know how much more capable it made me. Before this, I couldn’t singlehandedly, and I mean that in the most literal way you can imagine, build a house. To be fair, it’s been a year and a half, maybe a bit more, and it still ain’t completely done, but that’s pretty damn good if ya ask me. 

 

So here I am, or here we are. This is my favorite part of the house, can ya tell? Sitting here just makes me happy. The house Pops and I built had a porch or deck or whatever, nothin like this though. He woulda loved it. I’ve been waitin for another person to sit out here with me for a while, actually. Now I’ve got you. Thank you for coming out here with me, Steve. You have no idea how happy that makes me.” 

 

This whole time, all he had to do was nod and smile or glare, roll his eyes or huff in annoyance. Throughout it all, they’d managed to have a conversation, or at least he’d been able to eagerly listen to Bucky’s story, using only those means. 

 

The idea of him making Bucky happy filled him with silver blue feelings, ice cold joy washing over him, melting into beansprout green, leaving a pleasant aftertaste of happy calm. 

 

‘That’s fucking incredible, Buck. I can’t believe that you made this by yourself…’

 

“Technically I didn’t, I just added onto it.”

 

Always undermining himself, just like he used to when he was younger  _ (just like you, asshole) _ . Whenever they’d do that in college, Peggy would hit them upside the head with whatever was within reach, everything but a rock  _ (there was never a point where she had a rock within reach, so while this was an unproven theory, neither of them had ever wanted to test it out).  _ She’d get so angry about it, telling them how smart and talented they both were, how they needed to shut the hell up and be nicer to themselves or she would beat them the hell up. Peggy was great.

 

‘If Pegs would have heard you say that, you’d be getting your ass kicked right now. You know that, right?’

 

“That’s probably true. I dunno why my ass would be gettin kicked, but she’d find a reason just ‘cause she felt like it.”

 

‘The reason is that you built a fucking hou-’

 

“Renovated.”

 

‘Okay, Bucky? I am so close to taking her place and beating your ass myself right now. Quit making it sound like it was nothing. I don’t even know how the hell you managed that. You’re not even allowed on the property, or at least, you weren’t. How the fuck did you get all the supplies over here? How did you even fucking get up that high? And most importantly, what the fuck would you have done if you’d gotten hurt, dumbass?! You could have gotten crushed or some shit and nobody would have known!!’

 

“First off, I’m with ya on that one. I’ve got no clue in hell how I did this either, you ain’t alone in thinkin that. Second, Nat knew where I was. Or at least the general area I was. The good news is that I didn’t die!! Or bad news. However you’d take that. But yeah, that’s how all of this went down!! Exciting, huh?”

 

Yep. That decided it for him. He was going to kick his ass. The idea of Bucky getting hurt probably shouldn’t have upset him as much as it did, but hey, it happens, right? That was normal in a friendship.

 

_ Quit being a bitch and stop ignoring how blatantly fucking gay you are for him, Steve. _

 

The guy was already missing an arm, alright? He didn’t deserve anything else, what he deserved was love and care, someone to keep him safe.  _ I mean, to be kept safe. Not someone to keep him safe.  _

 

‘If you ever pull shit like that while I’m around, I’m going to stuff a fucking tracker straight up your ass so in case of an emergency, I’ll technically be getting a booty call from you.’

 

It hadn’t even been purposeful, but as soon as he’d seen the opportunity, he took it. Steve was so close to losing his shit, and at the sight of Bucky’s deadpan bitchface, he fucking lost it. While he was sitting there, laughing so hard there was no sound, Bucky just kept the same damn expression on his face, oozing disappointment and mock annoyance, which only caused him to laugh harder. When the tears started springing from his eyes though, that’s when the brunette started to crack, a smile trying to make its way out. 

 

_ ‘ _ Come on, that was funny as hell!!’

 

A laugh burst from Bucky’s lips, music to his ears, wavy rainbows and gradients of warm, happy colors. Every second that passed, he became more and more thankful for the fact that destiny had allowed him to come across Bucky once more. The human embodiment of happiness sat before him, and he almost couldn’t believe that he had the privilege on being with him, warm hand holding his. Just them two, looking out at every last thing, the lake in view, peeking out from the tops of the trees. 

 

“Kay, that was kinda funny. It was still a stupid joke though, and you and I both know it.”

 

‘It still made you laugh.’

 

“That’s true. But hey, you’re stealin my job, dork. I’m supposed to be the one cheering YOU up. Can’t have anymore of that sad face, we gotta bless the world with that smile of yours. Or at least bless me with it, I love it.”

 

When had this happened? When had every word Bucky said start to affect him? Especially at times like these. There was no way he could keep the dumbstruck look from creeping onto his face. Every time, he was caught off guard, didn’t expect it. You’d think he would start trying to learn when he’d be getting a comment like this, but apparently that wasn’t how it worked, based on how his face was glowing heated red,

 

‘Who says I don’t feel the same?’

 

It shouldn’t have brought him as much pleasure as it did to see Bucky’s mouth fall open, even if just a little bit.  _ Did you think that sentence over? Was that on purpose, or are you just an oblivious asshole? _

 

Probably both. Definitely both.

 

The other man shook his head and cleared his throat, as if trying to snap himself out of a dream.

 

“Well, I, uh...I didn’t say that, but I guess you probably like bein around me, then. Seein as I’m always smilin, I think. Do I smile a lot? I’m not sure. I ain’t always lookin in a mirror. That’d be terrible, constantly havin to stare at yourself. I can barely stand lookin at myself the few times I do each day. I could never be a narcissist. Could y-”

 

‘Yes, I do actually like being around you. If I didn’t, I would have dragged myself all the way back home, even before my leg was in a cast.’

 

Bucky rambled terribly whenever he was nervous, Steve remembered. And noticed. Sometimes Peggy would ask Bucky about who he was ‘madly in love with’, and fuck if he was able to answer properly. He’d always be too busy stuttering and going on about absolute nonsense, all the while flushing pink and refusing to make any eye contact.  _ It’s fucking adorable. _

 

One thing Steve hadn’t seen very often, if ever, was Bucky looking insecure or unsure of himself. Every time he did, it shocked the hell out of him and he had no idea how to react to it. This time was no different from all the others, except that his heart hurt for him, all of his being screaming at him to hold him and kiss his face all over until he felt better, knew how important he was.

 

“I mean, I was really only the first person to pop into your life, ya know? I ain’t hot shit or anythin, you’da reacted the same way with anyone else.”

 

‘Hold the fucking phone. What the hell, Buck? Anyone else? Are you telling me that some twat I knew from high school could have popped in and I’d be over the fucking moon to just be in his presence? Hell no. It’s just you, I  _ know _ you, we have history. I know that you’re an amazing person, and now I’m learning even more about you, so don’t even think about feeding yourself that bullshit. You’re important to me. Really important. I wouldn’t have missed you as much as I did if you weren’t. There wouldn’t still be drawings of you floating around if you didn’t mean a lot to me. The fact that it was you who waltzed right back into my life makes everything just that much better, you get that?’

 

“To be fair, I am a twat, except from college.”

 

‘Oh shut up, you know what I meant.’

 

Bucky shifted nervously, unsure of what to say.  _ Hey, if I’m going to get all touchy-feely, I’m dragging him into it too. _

 

“Do ya really mean that? Any of it?”

 

Steve ruffled Bucky’s hair entirely to have even more physical contact with him than he had five seconds ago. It worked, making him happy, and the other man happy despite his extremely mussed up hair. He looked like he’d gotten his head stuck in a garbage disposal.  _ That’s fucking adorable. _

 

‘All of it. I mean every word, dumbass.’

 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Like, a lot a lot.”

 

‘That’s a lot of a lot lots, isn’t it?’

 

“Stop trying to confuse me, asshole!”

 

They were always playfully bickering like this, and it made him happy. From what he saw whenever he looked into those blue eyes, Bucky felt the same way.

 

‘Natasha has a nickname for you, right?’

 

Bucky looked over at him questioningly.

 

“Yeah, unfortunately, she calls me Bear. Why do ya ask?”

 

‘Can I give you a nickname too?’

 

“Holy shit, you don’t even need to ask. Of fucking course you can! I love em, unless they’re Nat’s. Those are stupid and I hate them.”

 

Steve thought for a bit. He wanted to name him something, make Bucky his in some way, entirely because he was a jealous fuck who wanted him all to himself. Of course, he wasn’t going to be that asshole who gets possessive and douchey  _ (Sharon) _ , but he just wanted a damned nickname.

 

‘It’s not very creative or original.’

 

“Doesn’t have to be, it could be ‘Guy’ and I wouldn’t mind. It’s a special name you’re givin me, what else could I ask for?”

 

‘Blue eyes. Or just Blue.’

 

And there they were. Those damn eyes, lighting up right along with that dumb fucking smile, making everything wonderful and okay again.

 

“I love that. It kind of is creative if ya think about it. You’ve spent a lotta time thinkin about my eyes to get that name, so it has taken you a while. Plus, I’ve never heard that one before, so it’s pretty damn original.”

 

‘I’m glad you like it. I don’t know, I just think it suits you. Your eyes are one of the brightest things about you, your smile too. Both of them together light up when you’re happy. I feel like you wear your heart on your sleeve, all your emotions just show plainly on your face constantly. It makes it really easy to be around you. I don’t have to feel like you might be hiding stuff from me, at least not shit that could hurt me. You’re just open about shit in general. That might be one of the reasons why I find it so easy to be around you.’

 

Sometimes, he’d be talking, and halfway through a realization would hit him, knocking him straight on his ass. He could be himself around Bucky, never worrying about what he was thinking or if he was ready to harm Steve. He felt completely at ease, carefree and happy. Nothing would ever change how surprised and pleased he was every time he thought about how he was happy right then, at that moment. It had lasted a while, too. It’d been three, going on four days, the longest he’d felt any positive feelings for a long while. Thoughts like these always made his thoughts that much happier. Steve wanted to pull him and his big dumb blue eyes into a huge hug and kiss him on the forehead, lock lips with him forever, sending him a wordless thank you, tearful and heartfelt, without having to say a single thing. 

 

“Ya know what? I can be myself around you. I ain’t exactly introverted or anythin, but I do kinda keep myself under wraps so I don’t scare anyone off. You didn’t give a damn, just went with it without even complainin. Who the hell does that? An annoying-ass kid who can’t shut his damn mouth is constantly jumpin back and forth, up and down and all around, and you just sit there and enjoy it? I didn’t get it, I understand more now, but I still don’t really get that.”

 

Steve frowned. Who the hell would consider Bucky a bother? This beautiful, amazing person with so much to give, and people tried to crush him, take away his light, his glow? The thought alone enraged him, made him a whole lot angrier than it probably should.

 

“But you say ya love bein around me. That makes me feel all warm inside. Like...how did you describe it before? Dark, fuzzy blue. Kinda royal blue, dash of purple. It was always so accurate, and after a while, I started to get it, sorta. Still don’t completely know how to see the world that way, but I’ll never forget how you used to describe it all, so fuckin beautiful.”

 

**_He remembers._ **

 

‘Ultramarine. It’s what you’re thinking of. It’s my second favorite color. I don’t feel it very often, I’ve been getting it a lot more often lately, though.’

 

**_He remembers._ **

 

“What’s your first favorite color, then?”

 

**_He remembers me._ **

 

‘Steel blue. I just found out that it’s my favorite a little bit ago.’

 

Bucky fucking knew exactly what he was talking about, Steve knew that much. Neither of them were stupid, but neither of them was going to say anything about what he’d just said, what he’d put out there in the open. What else could he have said? Well, he could have said anything, but honest Steve had started coming out a bit more often. Only around this blue eyed nerd, but it was as if he’d come out from hibernation entirely to fuck with him and cause him to develop an awful case of foot in mouth. Which wasn’t very good, seeing as he was already lacking the use of one of his two legs.

 

“I’ve never been too fond of that color. It’s kinda plain, in my honest opinion.”

 

_ You  _ **_asshole._ **

 

‘Are you kidding me? It’s incredible. Almost like ice, but better. It’s strong, but when it becomes softer, it almost makes you feel like you’re melting. It feels like a cold burst of fresh air after coming out of a stuffy room, the best goddamn thing in the world. That surpasses happiness and starts feeling more like exhilaration. It’s flying, it’s the feeling you get when you meet someone new and do something stupid. Like starting to fall for them, you know? It’s the excitement and nervousness you feel before you say something you know will start to give you away, before you, say, go to gently hold their hand for the first time in what feels like years. It’s beautiful, and whoever told you they’re plain is a liar and deserves to get their ass beaten, preferably by me.’

 

And that was it. He’d said it, but now, they were both going to pretend he hadn’t. At least, pretend that he hadn’t meant it the way he did. 

 

Steve started kicking himself the second he looked over and noticed the tears in silver blue eyes, glinting in the sunlight. It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been him, not Bucky. Take the tears from him, put them in a jar, throw them in the ocean. Give him a bowl of the stars to replace the sadness, put the galaxies back in his eyes, the vast universe with all its beauty surrounding him every time they locked eyes. But tears? Tears were bad feelings, rainy days and melancholy apartments, lonely nights spent thinking in the dark, wondering who you really were. Tears were not supposed to be given to sunshine and walks on the beach, pink and orange skies dotted with cotton candy clouds. He was sadness and Bucky was not, and he would rather let go of every color known to mankind, give up his sight itself, before letting him and his glowing soul take the place of his grey, barely visible one. 

 

“Sounds like you really love that color, huh? Makes ya that happy?”

 

He sniffled, looking like he was willing his eyes to reabsorb the tears, keep them from leaving wet trails behind as they dripped from his jaw down to dot the floor. 

 

‘It does. The thing about colors is that they tend to be the ones to find you first. I’ve been waiting for the past year or more to have one find me, seek me out to brighten up my life again. For all that time, it’s just been black and white and grey, filling up everything. There was no way to escape it. Then yo- I mean, it found me, and now I’m seeing everything the way it is again. I’m seeing happiness again, and it makes me feel like I’ve died and come back to a newer, better life. I’ll never be as thankful to another color as this one for finding me. I’m so glad it did. Everything would still be bland and dark without it.’

 

“Jesus, it’s like you’re in love with a fuckin color, Stevie!!”

 

Steve laughed nervously.

 

‘Who knows? Maybe I’ll get there at some point sooner or later.’

 

He didn’t know whether to feel triumphant or anxious at stunning the other man into silence. His quiet said  _ Oh no _ , but his body language sobbed an ecstatic thank you to the heavens. 

 

‘Maybe sometime you should tell me your favorite color, hmm?’

 

Bucky’s voice was soft, not scared or sad or angry, but pleasantly surprised.

 

“I’ll tell ya at some point, yeah?”

 

He wouldn’t meet Steve’s eyes, instead looking out at the nearly black sky.

 

‘I think I’d like that, Bucky.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me a goddamn century to update, guys. The holiday season has been really busy, I've had some health issues fuckin me over, and not gonna lie, I haven't even had the fucking time to write anything. I'm going to try to keep writing, but there's probably not gonna be any consistency whatsoever when it comes to the updates. I'm sorry again, I love you all!!
> 
> Thank you guys for all your support and kind comments, they always help me out a bunch!!


End file.
